


Everything's Going To Be Okay

by timber_is_my_legacy



Series: You Are My Love [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Couch Cuddles, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluffy interactions, Happy endings always, I Will Go Down With This Ship, No Wandavision Spoilers, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Protective Vision (Marvel), Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, Sweet Vision (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, dealing with grief, literally just fluff, snitches end up in ditches, they are my comfort characters, vision is so sweet, what is fanfic if not denial perservering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29324406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timber_is_my_legacy/pseuds/timber_is_my_legacy
Summary: Vision didn't know if he would describe them as butterflies, but he was pretty certain this feeling had to do with a certain scarlet-wielding witch. Wanda learns what it means to feel safe for the first time in years, through the eyes of a newborn synthezoid.Or, Vision and Wanda spend a lot of time together. Lots of comfort, cuddling, and sweetness ensues. Lots of various connected one-shots on a linear path, full of fluff and the post-Fridays need for these two to have a break.Pining one-shots that take place between Age of Ultron and Civil War
Relationships: Tony/Pepper (mentioned), Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Series: You Are My Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197893
Comments: 132
Kudos: 162





	1. Adjusting

**Author's Note:**

> WandaVision is killing me and I needed to write sweet fluffy things to deal with it. We're gonna start a little bit of time after Age of Ultron, where there is a spark of friendship and an introduction to physical touch starts. Let's go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda thinks about her empty room and seeks out company.

Living in the Avengers Compound was strange and daunting at first, though Wanda had to admit that they did give her time to settle in comfortably. They gave them their own rooms and she was permitted to collect her own things. She was intimidated and confused - what did she like outside of who she had been? What interested her when she was a child? It felt she had never been given the chance in life to develop interests and hobbies, especially not when she and Pietro had been homeless for the latter half of their life. Nice accommodations and possessions were not a feasible concept to them. Now, she was faced with a large room with a bed and empty walls and shelves begging to be filled. She had no idea where to even start. She had no idea where to even go to figure out what she liked. So, she sits in her bed and stared at her lonely, unfamiliar room, pondering what exactly this even meant to her. 

Being an Avenger . . . when so long she had been prepared to stop them? It was surreal and she wasn't even entirely sure why she was here. She could've slipped away, slipped back to the remains of Sokovia and remained alone. In all honesty, she had hoped to die, buried among the rubble of the destroyed city, to be with her brother and her mother and father once more. _Perhaps death would be kinder_. 

Her brother would have loved being an Avenger, loved the fraternizing and growing close with the team. He would have loved to do good. She likes to think perhaps that's why she stays now. Realistically, she thinks it is more selfish than that, like a hopeful effort to wipe out the bad she knows she has done. 

Her walls were gray, she noticed absently. She was grateful for that. The paintings on the wall were there when she arrived, all soothing shades of light blue and grays and ivory and minty greens. It was nice, being surrounded by colors other than red. Too often the silks of red that seeped from her frightened her, reminded her of the dark of Strucker's cells. The windows let in light, soft afternoon white that bathed her thick comforter in warmth. She let herself be captured by the room, the fact that it was _hers_ and hers alone. She just wish she knew what to do with it. Across the room, at the empty desk, was the only remains of her life before. She pinned pictures to the soft wood backboard, pictures that had been safely tucked in the inside of her jacket since she was very young. They were her only possessions they had afforded. She remembered when she had searched for the ones that had been on Pietro - she also recalled the fresh wave of grief that had seized her when she found them, torn apart and stained with blood. She had the last existing picture of her father, but Pietro had their mother. Now, it was gone. But a picture of Pietro in his youth stared back at her, along with a picture of their dogs, Bovtanka and Iklo and her cat, Sontse. More that was lost in the bombs that killed their parents. 

She looked away, considering. Natasha had once suggested that she could go out shopping. But she knew that there was no one to be found at the Compound currently. Natasha had joined Clint was with his family to meet the baby and Tony Stark with his girlfriend. Rhodey was out at some sort of government meeting. Steve was surveying the forest beyond the Compound with Sam, as they were considering adding wooded team-up to their training. They'd already decided that they'd one day attempt some sort of water training in the lake. Wanda felt anxiety gnawing on her insides at the thought of it. She wasn't quite sure she had the control over her powers they all thought she did. Sparring in Hydra had been about survival. Now, she had to learn to harness her own powers, instead of allowing chaos to consume her. She had to fight people she saw the fears of. She wasn't sure how they felt about that either. 

Curiously, she closed her eyes and sought out the minds of those nearby. From what she could tell, Sam and Steve were still absent. But a lone mind caught her attention and she paused. Vision's mind was easy to pick out among others. Even without delving into his head, his thoughts were calm and organized and always so curious, so eager to take in everything he could. It was nearly like the mind of a child's, if a child had the knowledge of the world at their fingertips. Like a child, his experience in the world was lacking, which tended to lead to unfortunate or awkward situations for him. Though the others debated the validity of his emotions because of the origin of his birth, she had no such doubts. She could feel his mind constantly turning over words, studying actions, and observing conversation. The emotions were there; confusion, interest, happiness, sympathy. Even if he didn't fully understand it, he was as emotionally human as the rest of them.

Right now, his mind gave off something she related to boredom and she was surprised. It didn't seem that Vision could become bored. He was always asking questions, always teaching himself new things (his favorite was chess), always attempting to gather more experiential information, always thinking. Perhaps because of how empty the Compound seemed, he was feeling a bit lonely. Wanda herself had found herself drifting naturally to him. Originally she was certain it had to do with her powers and the fact that the stone that sourced them rested in his forehead. But as the weeks passed and she spent time listening to his spoken thoughts and watching him gracefully stumble his way through human interaction, she became less and less sure of that theory. He was interesting and kind-hearted and unhindered by the fact that Wanda had the ability to awaken the worst nightmares in people. While others were friendly and eager to see her fit in, she couldn't help but wonder if it was in efforts to make sure she stayed on their team. Vision didn't give her that feeling. 

She appreciated that more than he would ever know. 

So, she tapped on his mind, making him aware of her presence. _Come visit?_

There was a moment of surprise, followed by a warm reply. _Of course._

She retracted herself from his thoughts, giving him privacy once more and waited on her bed for him. The door was open and it wasn't much more than a few seconds that he walked through the threshold. His bright features were graced by a small smile as he stood firmly before her. He was riddled with manners and she couldn't help a smile of her own, gesturing towards the small chair that sat across from her bed. He took up her offer and took a few long strides to sit in the chair. He looked nice today, with some sort of soft looking dark sweater on. 

"It has been very quiet," Vision commented. "I was going to come see if you wished to watch a movie, but you had not left your room today and I did not want to intrude."

Wanda felt a rush of appreciation once more towards him. A movie would probably distract her from her thoughts and her self-doubts. It was another endearing trait about him - he could know the movie front and back within moments, but he told them once that he liked to experience movies as the rest of them did : _From what I gather, movies are not about gaining knowledge, but about enjoying an experience. It would not save me time to research it, but take away the chance to enjoy the experience._

"I guess I was just thinking," she answered. She glanced around her room. "Do you think it is too bare in here?"

Vision followed her eyes, taking a moment to observe her high gray walls and her few belongings. "I'm afraid I can't answer. My room is much simpler because I lack the need to sleep. But possessions and things are important to humans in their ability to provide a safe environment. Are you in need of something?" His information explanation was followed by a genuine question. It was true; his room was nearly empty. She'd seen it once and it had two chairs, a stand, and a singular painting of a tree just below the window. 

"I have never had much that belonged to me. Neither of us did. Now, I am unsure what it is I like to have or like to do."

Vision considered this a moment and she worried she was putting too much on him. _He wanted to watch a movie._ "Nevermind it. What movie did you have in mind?"

He still seemed troubled by her earlier words, but he was too polite to try and turn back on it now. "I thought perhaps you might have a suggestion."

Wanda stood, her legs asleep with how long she'd sat unmoving. She hadn't seen a lot of movies, but she had known of a lot of movies she had wished she could see. Many that came to mind came from childhood, from a yearning to see the newest animated film. She didn't know many beyond that. "Let's go look," she suggested, walking towards the door. Vision followed her out of her room and down the stairs to the living room. While many of the rooms in the Compound were business or office related, the living quarters were her favorite. They were cozy and warm and safe. The living room was the same. with a large couch and several other seating options (including a massive floor pillow that was dubbed "the boulder") and a large television mounted on the wall, movie-watching was easy to want to do very often. But, since many of the team members also enjoyed living in this area, she often kept to her room. 

"Maybe I could add a tv in my room," she murmured as she sat down on the couch. Vision hovered for a moment, before he sat down a few careful inches from her. "It would be nice to sit in my own bed and watch movies before I sleep."

Vision blinked, glancing at her, but said nothing. Instead, he grasped the remote from the coffee stand and turned on the tv. She longed to know what he was thinking, but respected his choice to not reply. "Maybe a Disney movie," she suggested instead. "Like _Beauty and the Beast_."

"Is it a literal or figurative beast?" Vision asked, holding the remote aloft but looking at her inquisitively. 

She wrinkled her nose with laughter. "I think literal. But I have never seen it before either."

Quickly the movie was found and played. As the story unfolded, Wanda knew it had been a poor choice to watch a movie with the intention to finish it. She found herself growing sleepy, but wishing to follow Belle's adventure to rescue her father from the Beast prince. The distance between herself and Vision was closing as she leaned with quiet tiredness. "This is beautiful music," she told him as the instruments told the story as Belle wandered the dark castle. "I had always wanted to learn to play, but my life never quite made time for that."

"Music is known to boost happiness in people due to the regulation of dopamine in the brain," Vision replied. "Learning to play one improves cognitive aspects of your mind and works to stimulate memory as well. I'm sure you would learn quickly, Miss Maximoff."

Wanda couldn't help it when she finally leaned all the way over, resting against Vision's shoulder. She felt him stiffen in surprise, before he settled nearly instantly. She could've been imagining it, but his shoulder seemed to climb in warmth beneath his sweater. As the movie moved on, she found herself blinking in and out of sleep. She pulled her legs up into the couch and fully accepted her position next to him. She sat up more fully, pulling down the blanket from behind her head and wrapping herself in it. Without much thought to the fact that Vision probably wasn't cold, she pulled it over him too. But she realized that this was a lot of his personal space she was stealing and she felt instantly guilty. Just because she might be craving human touch didn't mean she should give up on her own manners. 

"I'm sorry, Vizh, I didn't mean to take all your space," she apologized. It was only after she spoke that she realized that she had decidedly assigned him a nickname. She felt a little bit of embarrassment out of making herself so comfortable with him. To anyone else, it might have sent the wrong message. But Vision wasn't anyone else. 

He smiled shyly at her. "It's quite alright." He seemed like he wanted to say more, but the Beast roared and their attention snapped back to the movie. Wanda didn't fall asleep the rest of the movie, but instead focused on the remainder of the plot and the feel of Vision's shoulder against hers. The movie was good and Wanda found herself humming the tune of the theme song as the credits rolled. 

Vision had a pensive look on his face as she looked at him to gauge his opinion. "Did you like it?"

Vision's irises weren't unlike gears, turning and twisting as he thought. He settled his gaze on her, considering. "Yes. But I can't help but wonder if the people would have still liked the Beast if he hadn't changed back into a human."

Wanda looked at him, red skin lined with vibranium, bright yellow stone in his forehead, intelligent blue eyes. He was so unique and yet with a gentle probing of his mind, she could sense the insecurity, the doubt, the connection between himself and the Beast in the movie. She smiled at him reassuringly. "He was a hero. They would have known that regardless of how he looked."

She left his mind before she could feel his reaction to her words, but there was a shift in his expression. She stood, laying the blanket back across the back of the couch and waving a hand. "I'm going to have some lunch. I know you don't eat, but would you like to join me?"

His teeth were bright against his skin as he smiled. "It would be my pleasure, Miss Maximoff."

The sound of her own last name reminded her of her brother, of the two dogs and the cat on her wall, of the picture of her papa, the missing picture of Mama. It reminded her of the girl without a home, without a family. "Please Vision, call me Wanda."

"Wanda," Her name sounded nice when he said, quietly and carefully, as if he could break it apart if he said it too loudly. It rang in her ears as she led him to the kitchen, feeling a a great deal better than she sat in her empty room. 

-

Within three days, someone had gifted her a television, a wooden guitar, and a music stand with sheet music containing _Beauty and the Beast_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more chapters, but there's no particular story. Just a collection of cute little fluffs that come to mind. Will be updated periodically, thank you for reading and feedback is highly appreciated. Honestly, I may just dismiss Civil War so everyone can stay happy ;)
> 
> (things will be much fluffier soon!)
> 
> Oh also, Sokovian, though made up for the movies, does exist on google translate, so I used hints of Ukrainian in lieu of Sokovian.  
> Bovtanka - mutt  
> Iklo - fang  
> Sontse - sun


	2. Safe and Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda has a bad night. Vision uses collected data and instinct to comfort her.

It had been clear from the early morning that something was wrong with Wanda. Vision noted that she did not drink tea like she usually did, perching near a window in a cozy sweater, too-long-sleeves wrapped around a hot mug. In fact, he had not seen her until it was nearly time to be in the training facility. Captain Rogers was patient and it gave the rest of the team a chance to better wake up. Vision hovered near the entrance to the big room, feeling his chest tighten with worry. He glanced towards the windows where dark clouds were accumulating. There was a near confirmed percentage of thunderstorms today. Perhaps he should have checked on her before he arrived himself. He knew each person's schedule more than anyone. Because he did not physically need to sleep, he entered a dormant period around eleven each night (barring any activities that might postpone this). He awoke himself at 4:30 each morning, enjoying the chance to be awake before the sun rose so that he might watch it. He liked to distinguish the colors and the time span of it, tucking it away for any sort of later use it may provide.

Captain Rogers woke without fail at 5 AM each morning, showered, dressed and debriefing himself on any work in his office.

Shortly after, around 5:30 AM, Sam Wilson and Colonel Rhodes awoke, both grumbling over a freshly made pot of coffee.

Vision wasn't sure the exact time she awoke, but Natasha Romanoff was always in the kitchen eating a strawberry pop tart by 6 AM.

Wanda always arrived in the kitchen at approximately 6:15 AM, in some sort of soft sleepwear, hair slightly mussed and eyes drooped with a sleepy awareness. Then she would make tea, contemplate by a window, then return to her room to be dressed by 7 AM when debriefing began in the training facility.

But today she'd not been in the kitchen by 6:15 AM and she had not arrived in the training facility by 7 AM. Agent Romanoff came close to Captain Rogers, whispering in low tones between the two of them. He realized with a start that they had turned their gazes to where he hovered just off the floor.

"Vision," Natasha beckoned him closer. He started to drift closer before he caught himself. He lowered himself to the floor and took steps to come to their sides. He was actively attempting to discern his AI tendencies from his human ones - while hovering everywhere was quicker, his desire to fit in better did not coincide with it.

"Vision, you were with Wanda last night right?"

"Yes. She wanted to show me a song she learned on the guitar," Vision explained, feeling a bit peculiar. His chest was tightening further and he struggled to tamper down the urge to send his mind in search of hers. He wanted to respect her privacy.

"Was she alright?"

Vision sought out the memory in less than a second. 

_"Vizh, I have been practicing a new song," Wanda told him. He felt his synthetic heart jump a little at the use of what he determined was a nickname. Nicknames, according to his research, signified belonging, friendship, and trust between people. Her use of a nickname for him stirred some sort of feeling in him he had yet to name. He finished putting the chess pieces he'd been studying back on the board and glanced up at her. She seemed bashful, as if she wanted to convey pride, but uncertainty stopped her. "Would you like to hear it?"_

_"I would be honored to," he replied._

_She led the way to her room and she gestured for him to sit on her bed while she sat on the small chair. She tuned the guitar and with deft fingers, played out the tune she had learned. It was soft and melodic, but nearly sad in a way. He admired her as she played, amazed by the duality of her abilities. Truthfully, she could level cities with the power that surged through her fingertips. But then, she could also accomplish beautiful things, such as playing a guitar. He was in awe of her powerful abilities, but the gentle lullaby she recited offered a whole other side to her that not all were privy too. He felt honored and a strange feeling blossomed in his chest, making his heart jump once more._ _She focused only on the guitar, but he could not decide whether to focus on the prowess of her hands or the concentrated look of her face._

_As the song came to an end, Wanda glanced up at him, perhaps a bit bashfully again. He wasted no time in saying, "That was beautiful, Wanda."_

_She blushed lightly, setting down the guitar and pulling her sleeves down with an expression of humble pride. "Thank you. It's a song from a movie, I think. It's called_ Safe and Sound _."_

 _Vision considered that, finding with a quick referral that the song was from a movie series called_ The Hunger Games _and was quite popular when it was released. The lyrics themselves were beautiful and telling as well. He wondered how much of it she truly related to and it filled him with a combination of empathy and mourning for her. She got up and sat beside him on the bed, showing her fingertips to him. A small sniffle came from her. "I love learning, but it is giving my fingers calluses. They're ugly."_

_Vision blinked, looking down into her face and lifting a hand. "May I?"_

_She nodded. He took her hand in his, her skin very warm, and examined the tips of her fingers. Small pale lines crossed her skin and they were rough, a strong comparison to the softness of her palms. He wasn't able to develop calluses or scars because of the design of his nature and healing factor. On humans, he saw them as stories that contributed to who they are. Even if they stemmed out of pain, it was pain that seemingly shaped humanity, strengthening it and stirring determination past its failings. He was envious of this trait that had been perfected in his own body. Perhaps his story would be much more interesting if he were able to keep pain as a tale on his skin._

_Perhaps he would be more human._

_"Scars are often seen a painful reminder of something," Vision commented, his eyes briefly leaving where his hand held hers for observation to meet her own. "But they are not ugly. They are what make you who you are. I very much like who you are."_

_Happiness tugged at the corners of her mouth, but after a moment, the urge to smile seemed to fade. Gently, she extracted her hand from him and looked away. "I probably should get some sleep. The exercises today wore me out."_

_He noticed the shift in her mood, but her explanation was sound. Exhaustion often led to mood swings and a desire for solitude. Deep in his mind, he couldn't help but feel as though he said something wrong. He tried to analyze what unspoken rule he had broken (he learned he tended to accidentally do that a lot, according to Sam Wilson), but the urge to give her privacy won over and he pushed his doubts aside for considering later. "Of course. I will see you in the morning."_

The last thing he had seen before he left her alone was her still staring at the wall, seemingly at nothing. He had thought over her abrupt change last night, but he wasn't able to figure out what he could've said or done to lead to that. He had settled with the fact that she had been tired and perhaps her own music had made her sleepy. But now with her late to debriefing, he wasn't so certain.

"She seemed tired last night. Perhaps I could go check on her?" He offered. 

Captain Rogers gestured towards the large windows that made up the wall. "Well, considering it's going to storm today, I was going to keep it simple. Let her know she can have the day. Make sure to double check security today and don't forget you have patrol after Sam at noon. One sweep will be enough."

Vision gave them both an acknowledging nod before he phased through the walls in the direction of Wanda's room. He flew his way across the yard and to the Compound where the living quarters were. It would be a short walk, but focused on reaching Wanda, he opted for the quicker option. The rain began as he was entering the building and he phased out of his chosen attire for the cozier look of slacks and a familiar sweater. Setting himself down, he traversed through the dining room and kitchen, down the hall to where Wanda's door was shut. Without a thought, he stepped through. 

It was very quiet in her room, the sound of raindrops, picking up in their descent, tapping rhythmically against the window. Her bed was a mess, the covers bunched up and several pillows fallen to the floor. Several objects had fallen from shelves and one of the paintings on the wall had fallen, laying haphazardly on the floor. He would've assumed a fight had happened in the room, if it weren't for Wanda sitting in the corner of the room, bare legs tucked tightly against her and her eyes unfocused and exhausted. He instantly was on edge, assessing the situation for any sign of a threat or self-harmful behavior from her. 

"Wanda?" He called gently, taking a few steps towards her. He was surprised by the longing to sweep her up and hold her close, but he restrained himself, tucking the thought deep back into his mind. 

She looked up at him, like she had just realized he was there, and he noted the darkness beneath her eyes and the red, swollen skin that signaled the emotional distress she was in. Her lip trembled. "I can't train today," she whispered, as if she expected him to force her to her feet and follow him to the training facilities. 

"Wanda, are you alright?" It was a bit of a redundancy. It was clear she was not. But his first thought was his own concern for her and he had voiced it aloud without truly considering his words. 

"I'm sorry, I-"

She shook her head, lip trembling turning into a stifled sob and pressed a hand against her mouth. He nearly folded at the sight of her and he drew closer, bending at the knee before her. A tear escaped her attempt to keep from crying and finding that all rational thought had fled his mind, he reached out and brushed it from her cheek. She ducked her face, hiding it in her sleeves and her shoulders shook with the burst dam. He crept forward, considering his options. Music was a comfort to Wanda, as was traditional food from Sokovia. She told him once that she liked animals and found them to be comforting. But given that none of those were within reach, he settled for what data he did have. When they had watched a movie together and she had rested against him, her heart rate had slowed and her mind was calm. Touch was a necessity for humans and had a calming effect. Hugs were an important aspect of easing emotional pain. 

Cautiously, as if he could frighten her, he sat down next to her and gingerly pulled her close to his side. She did not resist, turning her face away from her arms and pressing it into the juncture between his shoulder and his neck. Her hands gripped his shirt and she made herself small against him. He used one arm to wrap around her, settling in her hair, while the other rested awkwardly on his own leg. He'd never really hugged anyone before - or made a physical act of comfort for that matter. But he must've been doing something right; she started to settle already, her heart wrenching sobs dying down to distressing sniffles. He took a quick vitals check, as he was sure she wasn't able to describe yet what had caused such emotional turmoil. Her heart rate was racing. Her temperature was 100.6 degrees, approximately two degrees above what was considered an average temperature. A soft touch of his mind against hers revealed a severe sense of grief, fear and anguish and instead of reeling back, he waited in it. These feelings of hers . . . they were stronger than anything he'd felt from her, raw and terrible and real. Like the calluses on her fingers, they were part of her. 

"Shh," Vision found himself stroking her hair, an instinctual move that did not require much forethought. "It's alright."

It was within nearly twenty minutes of quiet, her warm body pressed against his side, that he rechecked her once more. Her heart was beating slower now and her breathing was deep and slow. Her temperature was still high, but she slept peacefully and soundly. Carefully, he phased his lower half through the floor so that he could get a better hold on her. With deliberate care, he wrapped his arms around her, keeping her curled against his chest, and floated his way across the room. He sat his feet back down and laid her in her bed. He watched a moment and when she did not stir, he pulled one of her lighter sheets up and around her. Vision glanced about her room and the disarray. He started by picking up her pillow and tucking them around her, assuring that she was warm and comfortable. Then he placed some of her fallen desk items back where they belonged, turning them on the surface until they looked neat and orderly. He hung the painting back on the wall, making sure all four corners were straight and aligned. 

Her temperature had risen slightly once more when he returned to her and despite his ability to check with his senses, he reached out and pressed his knuckles to her forehead. _Rest_ _. Hydration. Cold compress. Acetaminophen or ibuprofen._ He wasn't sure of the origin of her temperature, but he was sure that it wasn't healthy for it to persist. As he made his way towards the wall to leave and find what she needed, she started to cry once more. Worried she had awoken, he turned back to analyze, but she was in fact still asleep. He reached out his mind again, but instead of brushing her pain once more, he opened his thoughts to her. He sent abstract thoughts of peace and calm to her and he was honestly surprised when it seemed to work. She stopped crying, instead falling back into a quiet sleep.

Making sure to keep up the connection, he phased through the walls towards the kitchen. He filled a glass with cool water and ice, wrapped some acetaminophen, _Tylenol_ , in a napkin and traversed back to her room. He set the water on the stand beside her bed with the Tylenol and pulled the chair closer. It was now a little past eight o'clock and he had nowhere to be until 12 PM. Vision didn't want to leave Wanda alone with whatever was plaguing her thoughts and causing such a strong reaction to her health. He made sure to solidify his projection to her, while sitting quietly at her bedside. 

The rain outside picked up and it rattled the glass of the window. The room became darker, but Vision hardly noticed. He fell into his own thoughts, as he often did when alone. He researched the process of grief, the effects on health, the unpredictable nature of it, and the ways that one could offer help with it. He didn't know exactly what it was that drew him so strongly to her. It wasn't that he didn't like his other teammates. Captain Rogers was admirable in his courage, Agent Romanoff stood a pillar of resilience, Colonel Rhodes was an encouragement and level-headed, and Sam Wilson remained an unfaltering witty and strong soldier. They were all unique and part of his team - there was a fondness he had developed for each of them. This didn't include the times when Mr. Stark came to visit - Vision had remnants of JARVIS' memory and being with him was something familiar. He supposed he felt a stronger loyalty surprisingly to Mr. Stark, even if he was around less. 

But it was very different with Wanda. From the moment he'd been born, his mind had instantly been drawn to hers. Perhaps because she had been the first to see into it, when he had mostly been comprised of Ultron within the Cradle. But it was like she was a consistent presence near him, her mind almost always near him even if he wasn't seeking it out. It was reasonable - her powers came from what gave him life. But it didn't explain the strangeness in his chest when she was near, the way that it felt much more natural to be near her than away from her. It didn't explain the way that something else drove his instincts when he was around her, something unidentifiable and immeasurable by statistics or research. 

He was eventually drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of Wanda awakening. He withdrew his mind from her as she made sense of her surroundings. Her face was pale and her eyes were still underlined with dark semi-circles and red rims. "Vizh?" She murmured in a hushed tone. She held a hand to her head, wincing with a hiss of pain. He held out the glass of water and the Tylenol to her. 

She seemed confused, but she took the medicine and swallowed it down. She drank the water until it was halfway gone before she set it back down on her stand, just within reach. "You were on the floor when I came to check on you this morning," he explained. "You fell asleep and I moved you here."

She frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. "What time is it?"

"Ten-thirty AM," Vision answered. He hadn't realized that so much time had passed with him sitting by her bedside. "You have a fever of 100.8 degrees Fahrenheit and your room was in a state of . . . disarray, when I came in earlier."

Wanda lowered her eyes, picking at a thread on her gray sleep shirt. "I wasn't feeling well after you left last night. I think my fever started then. I tried to take a cold shower, but it didn't really help. I couldn't get comfortable. I imagine I may have - lashed out in my sleep."

"Fevers can often result in waking hallucinations or vivid dreaming," Vision told her. "Your body is straining to maintain its internal temperature, which can result in these often being unpleasant happenstances."

"It was a bad night," she agreed with a small nod. "I could not stop seeing him. Pietro."

A twin was like a shadow to its own. An extension of themselves, if close enough, could be like an arm or a leg. If one were to lose an arm or a leg, it would hurt, but it would heal. Only some days would the pain return, whether a missing ache or a ghostly burn for a thing that no longer existed. Grief was hard to understand directly without having experienced it, Vision concluded. But he felt hers and it seemed as if it was an extension of himself now as well. "I am here to listen, if that is something you need."

Her eyes flashed with something and he was dismayed to see that tears were forming once more. But she did not cry and instead scooted over in the bed. "Vision, would - would it be alright if I just -"

She struggled to finish her sentence, her expression embarrassed for some unknown reason. Instead of continuing to formulate words, he felt her reach out and offer him entrance to her thoughts. He accepted and in her mind saw himself, felt her leaning on him, crying into his shirt. There was a strong feeling of grief, but an underlying sense of warmth and calm. He felt her yearning for touch, to just be quiet in the presence of another. He understood now what she was trying to convey (the hesitance behind it) and without a word, rose and sat alongside her in the bed. She tentatively tucked herself against his side once more, her cheek pressed against his chest. 

"It's alright most of the time," she murmured, her voice muffled in his shirt. "But some days, something small reminds me of him. It makes me feel so sick and tired. I want to sleep it away, but most of the time he is waiting there."

Vision listened quietly, but he couldn't help but wish he knew how to help. It seemed that any searches for advice on comforting a grieving person involved little to do at all. _Refrain from giving advice. Be a good listener. Do not explain the loss. Respect their way of grieving._ He forgot for a moment that she was still hovering on the edge of his mind and she tilted her chin up to look at him. "This is enough, Vizh. You - your mind is very calming."

He blinked. It seemed so simple a thing to give. "Whenever you need it, you are welcome there."

He was happy to see her smile at that and her presence along the edges of his thoughts filled him. _You're always safe here_.

She left his gaze, resting her head back on his chest and pulling her feet up. "This is nice too."

He couldn't help but agree, feeling a wave of something crash over him as she rested, hopefully to sleep off the remainder of her fever. He made sure his body temperature did not exceed the room so she would stay cool and after a moment, brought his arm down from the pillows and rested it in a safe position around her shoulder. Her breathing slowed and her active presence in his head became passive. _Safe and sound_. He stayed there at her side until it was nearly noon, when the thunder started. Though he longed to remain there as long as she needed, the team needed him too. It was his duty. 

As he began to move away from her, her mind awoke once more. He turned back to her with guilt rising in him. "I must go on patrol," he told her. "It shouldn't be more than an hour."

She smiled at him. "I will be alright now, Vision. I'm feeling much better. Thank you."

When he left, he made sure to tell Captain Rogers that Wanda had not been feeling well before he went on his excursion outside the Compound. The storm was formidable and he made his density light enough to allow the precipitation to pass through him. Lightning flashed far away and the thunder was every bit of an explosion with none of the pain. He had to make sure to stay on task instead of admiring the beauty of the storm, finding it easy to get lost in the bright white flashes and pattering of raindrops. He made his face solid for a moment, just to feel the kiss of the water on his skin. He did not understand why humans did not go out in the rain more. 

When he returned, he was surprised to see Wanda in the kitchen with Sam and Natasha, who were making sandwiches. She was quiet, sipping tea, but her eyes flicked to him as he phased through the wall. She looked much better, dressed, more awake, and a soft smile adorned her face. _Hey Vizh,_ she greeted, the reaches of her mind tangling with his. He noticed her nose wrinkled a tiny bit when she smiled. _Come sit_. 

Vision realized that this sight was much more distracting than the storm.


	3. The Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda finds a patch of wildflowers and explains the importance of hope to Vision. In turn, he learns a lot more about what makes life beautiful.

There was a small space off the patio near the forest that Wanda found herself drifting to. She could see it from the window in the mornings when she drank her tea and contemplated her life (nowadays, it mostly consisted of wondering why Sam Wilson was so eccentric in the mornings). It was a little patch of wildflowers near the edge of some roots, neatly hidden by little copse of trees. She could make out pastel shades of blue and purple and pink. So, on one of their off days, she made her way through the Compound to the patio behind the building. It was clear that this area was meant to have a 'home' feel to it. It was the furthest area from the road and where agents and scientists and press traveled in and out. The stone patio had a hot tub, a grill, a fire pit and some yard games tucked safely away in a shed. She wasn't sure who would've thought of it - but it had been mentioned more than once that they have a night of grilled foods, games, and a fire. She imagined it would be fun, even if she tended to shy away from too much social interaction. 

She stepped carefully off the stone and into the grass, making her way carefully down to the wildflowers. They were beautiful in their simplicity; not like the brightly colored flowers that made up arrays and bouquets. They were small and insignificant - and yet - she felt as if nothing were prettier. Wildflowers used to be a rare sight, growing between the cracks in concrete of Sokovia, only to be stomped out by protesters and soldiers alike. She had a distinct memory from when she was young - her papa picked one for her and brought it home, tucking it behind her ear and brushing her hair away lovingly. She knelt down to brush her fingertips along the tiny petals, allowing her worldly cynicism give way to her rarer sense of wonder. 

Her mind was so entranced by the warm summer breeze and the flowers before her as she wondered over their names, she didn't sense the approach of a familiar mind. "Wanda," She jumped, rising to her feet to confront Vision. His face was apologetic, catching on quicker than normal that he had suffered a misstep. "Terribly sorry, I did not mean to startle you. I was speaking with Captain Rogers and he wanted me to let you know that the package you ordered arrived. It has been placed in your room."

She offered him a smile. "Thank you, Vizh."

His impossibly bright blue eyes flicked from her face to the ground behind her. She recognized the look on his face, curiosity settling in. His desire to know and learn was insatiable. "What has brought you out here?"

Wanda knelt back down and gestured towards the flowers, entwining her fingers in the vine-like stem of one of the soft blue-purple flowers. Vision copied her movements, bending down to observe the flower she had chosen, before watching her face as she began to speak. "I saw these from the window," Her smile persisted. "I wanted to look at them up close."

Vision's eyes drifted from her to the flowers, quiet for a moment, before he said, _"Symphyotrichum patens._ Also known as the late purple aster," He reached out and brushed his red fingers against one of the white flowers. They were very similar to the first flower. " _Symphyotrichum pilosum_. White heath or downy aster."

She reached past his hand to point out some little yellow flowers shaped like a small cup. They were bright and warm and few. "What about these?"

" _Ranunculus bulbous._ More commonly called a buttercup," He told her. 

She smiled wider at the name. "Buttercup," She reached out for a similar flower, a little gold one with a waxy stem and many petals. 

Vision interrupted her admiration for it. " _Taraxacum officinale._ A-"

"Dandelion. I know, Vizh. They used to grow in Sokovia, sometimes in the dead of winter. They are beautiful."

Vision's eyes turned, signifying his ever-working mind. "It seems they are often considered more a weed than a flower."

Wanda turned her fingers over the flower, little specks of pollen catching on her skin. "I think people dismiss it too often. It is a weed if it grows someplace it is not wanted or where it does not fit in among the more beautiful flowers. But it is one of the strongest, I think. Plus, once it dies, it can offer a wish."

"A wish?"

She spotted what she was looking for and pulled the dead dandelion from its stem, showing him the fluffy white seeds. "You make a wish on it and then-" She softly let out a puff of air, sending the white fluff floating towards him. His smile was contagious and a few specks of the dandelion landed on his shoulders. "Hopefully it comes true."

He took the stem from her, twisting it in his fingertips and considering the empty top. "It is strange that hope is so often found in little things instead of being pursued. Leaving a wish up to a flower seems-"

"Silly?"

She was looking at him with a raise of her brow and he dropped his gaze, gently setting the stem down in the grass. His smile faltered and he seemed confused. "I don't mean to offend."

She reached out and caught his hand impulsively. His skin was smooth and soft and warm and she struggled not to blush too much as a reaction. He glanced down quickly at her touch and she couldn't read his expression. "Maybe it is silly. But I guess," She turned their hands over, tilting her head as she observed his skin. He kept his hand flat, letting her look as she might. Her silver rings were a natural contrast against his skin. "I guess it's nice to just focus on the little things. They distract from the overwhelming moments in life. I don't think of my life in Sokovia without thinking of my mother cooking our favorite meal. Or my father showing us how to garden. Or that Pietro loved rainy days and puddles. The little things . . . there is more hope in them somehow. I did not have much hope in the past few years. But . . . I think I'm learning how to again."

He looked from their fingers to her eyes. She could see the wistfulness in his face. "I wish I had more of those. Little memories. I might understand greater if I did."

She trapped his hand between both of hers now, patting gently. "You will get there, Vizh. We will just have to make some."

She reached down and picked one of the dandelions. She placed it in his hand, guiding him to close his long fingers over the stem. "Why don't we head back inside? You can help me with what I ordered."

He was staring at the flower she gave him with some sort of wonder on his face, mouth slightly open. He nodded, rising and following her to back to the Compound. 

-

Wanda had ordered a cork board globe with some tacks. With Vision's help, she placed tacks where she had been and where she hoped to visit at least once in her life. She didn't have separate tack colors other than red, so they mixed together. But she placed one where Sokovia is, one in Africa, one in New York. Vision guided her hand to make sure she had a good idea where everything was. She placed one near Alaska; she had seen pictures once of the Northern Lights and she wanted nothing more than to see them. One in Scotland, because the little girl in her wanted to see castles. She let Vision pick a place for her - somewhere on the top of the state of Pennsylvania and though she questioned him on it, he gave her very little information. Just that perhaps they could go one day. So, she left him with his secrets. 

The wildflowers outside left Wanda's mind for a day or two, busy helping move some shipments into storage (not so much with her hands as practicing moving things with her mind) and going into town with Natasha and Sam to collect groceries (which was an whole event in itself). It wasn't until an uneventful evening when Wanda wandered out from her room that she discovered a curious sight. She'd been looking for Vision in all honesty; he usually stopped by her room after his evening patrol, but he was fifteen minutes late. She knew it probably meant something that he'd become part of her regular schedule, so much that she noticed a lack of his presence, but she didn't put any effort into considering it. However, she was successful in finding him when passing by one of the many windows and movement caught her eye. Down past the patio, kneeling among the wildflowers, was the very man she was searching for. He was in his full battle regalia, cape bunched up behind him as he bent over the flowers. She watched with curiosity as he moved. He was plucking out little weeds and setting them in a neat pile to the side, before lifting a small watering bucket next to him. She watched in complete wonderment as he doused a little water and then set the watering can near the edge of the building. He admired the little patch of color for a moment longer, before turning and phasing through the walls back to the Compound. 

Wanda smiled to herself and walked back to her room, replaying the sweet scene in her mind over and over. Something about her words had stuck with him. She turned and made her way back to her room, heart warm and smile never leaving her face. 

-

She managed to join him the next time, figuring out that he had shifted his own schedule to visit the flower patch when the sun was setting. He was aware of her before she reached him kneeling in the grass, tilting his head to look at her. "Wanda," he greeted, his voice light and happy. 

"Hey," she replied, reaching out to use his shoulder as balance while she tucked her legs beneath her in the grass. She gestured towards the watering can. "Are you taking care of the flowers, Vizh?"

She regretted the playfully posed question as soon as he looked at her, some sort of concern in his eyes. It was the same concern that entered him every time he overstepped normal boundaries or made a misstep in his understanding of humans. She didn't want him to ever think she would be annoyed with him like Sam sometimes or exasperated once in a while like Steve. "I understand that it is not typical gardening, but I thought - well, I don't know what I thought-"

She slid her hand from his shoulder to his hand, gripping it reassuringly. "No, no, it's very nice of you," Movement caught her eye and she lifted a hand to tilt his face towards it. "Look, they like it too."

Several small orange butterflies were fluttering among the wildflowers, hovering over one flower before dancing to another. Vision beamed and she couldn't help but let her hand fall back to his. They sat there for a few moments and they watched the butterflies. It wasn't long before they were attracted by something brighter than the flowers. They flitted close and around Vision, landing for a few moments before they would readjust. Wanda couldn't help but laugh as one landed on his nose and he looked down at it with confused but wondrous eyes. The gears in them shifted and turned and with a sudden longing, Wanda reached her mind out to him. He did not turn her away and she was stunned by the pureness that awaited her. His mind was pure light, always so different from the minds she had invaded in the past. He was capturing this moment, full of innocence and inquiry. When he looked at her, eyes occasionally hidden by the soft wings of the butterfly, his feelings became indecipherable. The light became warmth and she felt so impossibly safe there that she felt absolutely bereft when she backed out once more. 

"Is this one?" Vision asked her, as she lifted her finger to transfer the butterfly from his nose to her finger. 

She tilted her head, put off by his question. "One what?"

"One of the little things."

Her smile softened and she couldn't help but feel endeared by his hopeful face. "I can't answer that for you, Vizh. But I think perhaps it is one of mine."

He considered that for a moment, his eyes flicking from the flowers to her, to the sunset behind her, shimmering off the river. "I think," he murmured. "That I understand now."

They sat in the grass together for a while longer, enjoying the flowers and the butterflies and the fading sun as it cast a mellow orange across the trees and the Compound. Wanda was certain it would not be a memory that could ever be tarnished and it would be safely nestled in her mind, like her mama and papa, and Pietro. When it got chilly, they headed back inside and joined the team for dinner. Vision sat beside her as she ate, listening to the chatter of the others. 

"Soon we'll be starting some more dynamic training sessions. I think Tony is coming within a few days to calibrate the simulation room."

"We've also talked and in a few weeks, you'll be able to take a few days off."

_Would you perhaps like to join me again tomorrow?_

She did not need to look at him when he posed the sweet question and she smiled to herself. _I would love to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The show is gradually driving me insane and i needed some sweetness. Chapters will continue to be posted. Might be a two or three part coming soon. And Vision's little secret place will be revealed soon as well.


	4. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda is invited to visit Clint's farm for her days off. Vision must stay on the Compound for defense purposes and considers his own autonomy and the fact that his misses her very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This makes me sad but I feel early on it might be hard for the rest of the team (who can't see inside Vision's head) to see him as something more than a defense mechanism. That almost seems very prevalent to me in Civil War, when he seems to be in charge of anything to do with the safety of the Compound, given that he was not on the mission to Lagos. He also may not have tested out his ability to shift appearances yet, so staying behind to avoid much attention would probably be suggested to him.
> 
> This also is slightly inspired by the conversation between Thor, Steve and Tony at the end of Age of Ultron when they discuss how Vision doesn't count to lift the hammer because he is just an AI, a "machine", "it's not like a person is lifting the hammer". There may be similar attitudes in this chapter, but I dearly love all these characters and as they get to know Vision, this will become more clear that this isn't necessarily true. 
> 
> I will defend Vision and his humanity until the day I die (as will Wanda). This was a little hard to write as well cause I find questions of the self hard to write out as a whole. Vision will continue to question it, but with a little less intensity in the future.

Vision hovered in his room, near the top so he could observe the outside. There was a light falling of rain, fog lining the edges of the forest. Though rain and storms tended to stir a strange feeling in him that he had decided was defined as bittersweet - though there was a closer term he discovered called _saudade_ , which meant a feeling of nostalgia, longing, or melancholy. He could not quite experience nostalgia so early in his existence, but he understood that it produced a sort of sad happiness. It seemed like a terrible oxymoron to consider, but he could not control how it felt. It seemed it was involuntary, like every other feeling he'd experienced this far. 

The team had been granted a few days to themselves to go where they wished, so long as they kept low profiles and returned within five days. Captain Rogers and Sam had gone to visit Washington DC, for reasons left unexplained. Colonel Rhodes left to visit some family. Natasha and Wanda were invited to Clint's farm. 

And so, everyone went. 

_"Keep an eye on the place, Vision. Send for help if something happens," Steve had told him._

_"I'll be stopping by for a few days to run some diagnostics," Mr. Stark had added. He clapped Vision on the shoulder. "Good with you, Number 5?"_

Vision had deduced with a quick search that _Number 5_ was in reference to a experimental military robot that was the focus of a 1986 film called _Short Circuit_. Vision had felt an unpleasant tightness in the pit of his stomach at that realization, but he did not know what it meant. He knew it was not a pleasant reaction though. It was only the first night of being on the Compound by himself and he was finding that it produced a similar feeling. There was not much to do; he didn't eat, he didn't drink, he didn't sleep. He tried watching a movie after his first patrol and he found it was much less enjoyable when he was alone. So he hovered in his room for hours. Usually he would pass time by searching through databases for questions he had, following a series of inquiries inspired by the day's actions. Now, all he could think about was his role in the Compound and questioning the truth of his own existence. 

"Mr. Stark has arrived," Friday's voice echoed in his lonely room. She didn't have to communicate through the AI system - technically they could communicate via his own AI capabilities - but considering his current turmoil over the idea of it, he was glad she did. 

"Thank you, Friday," Vision answered, phasing through the walls until he located Mr. Stark's signature. He was in the lab and Vision phased through the floor to reach him. His co-creator was flipping through various ideas in his files. His relationship with the Avenger was strange. He had Jarvis' old data embedded in his subconscious, giving him his own voice and previous understanding of the AI. He respected Mr. Stark - he was a very intelligent man and without him, Vision would not exist. However, there was not much memory involved, but he felt a certain loyalty to him because of his involvement in his creation and perhaps as a residual memory of Jarvis being a butler of sorts to Mr. Stark. Vision felt that tightness in his stomach again at the thought of it. 

_I am not Jarvis. I am not Ultron. I am._

"Mr. Stark?" 

The man jumped a bit, glancing over his shoulder to glare at Vision. "Damn, I forgot you could do that."

"Sorry, sir."

"You willing to run some tests with me?"

Vision walked closer. "There is not much else to do at the moment," He was surprised by the slight sarcasm in his voice. 

"It's up to you," Mr. Stark said, turning away from his holograms and facing Vision. "If you'd rather haunt the grounds, be my guest."

Vision mulled the words over, finding fault in them. He said it was up to him, but it never truly was. If it had been, he would have seized the opportunity of the days off. He would have requested someone else stay to guard the Compound, wandering and patrolling endlessly until some semblance of life and camaraderie returned. He wouldn't feel so conflicted, seemingly over the way others' felt about him and his nature. "What can I do?" Unfailingly a servant, as usual. 

"I actually wanted to run some tests on you," Mr. Stark replied, squinting at him. "Run some scans, see how you tick. Nothing too extravagant."

Vision turned away, feeling less than willing once more. He closed his eyes, wondering if perhaps this would always be a struggle for him. Perhaps it was a greater struggle now because he felt alone in it. But without fail, he only replied, "Then run them."

"No need for the melodrama. They'll be quick and mostly painless."

About an hour went by of Mr. Stark using a variety of tech to determine if Vision gave off a heat signature (Vision showed him that he could control that aspect of his self), if he could be wounded (he could, but it would take something very powerful to do so), if he could phase through living things (a quick demonstration and a startled Stark proved that), among many other things. Vision longed to explain that he was capable of human qualities as well. That he could breathe, he could understand human emotions, that he was doing his best to learn human behavior, that he sometimes experienced emotions so strongly that he could not even produce a word for it. That a synthetic heart beat in his chest. But he also knew he wasn't here for that information. He was here to collect information for the simulation room, to help Captain Rogers decide exactly what Vision could do in battle. A synthezoid with emotions . . . they had likely hoped for something like a physical Jarvis. A subservient _robot_. The word left a bad taste in his mouth and he was silent for the remainder of Mr. Stark's tests.

"Hey, I'm finished. You can go back to whatever you were up to or hang out here," Mr. Stark offered. He snapped his fingers when Vision did not immediately reply. "Distracted, big guy?"

Vision could not shake his negative thoughts or feelings. "I cannot be distracted, Mr. Stark. But I think I will retire to my quarters now." With that, he phased back to his room, head low. 

_Without distraction. Created to serve. Created to kill and destroy._ He was created for many things and yet he felt as if he filled none of those roles. But he could not fight his natures, not the body created for destruction, not the AI designed for compliance, not the soul full of humanity he was certain resided within him. He realized with a jolt that he missed Wanda. She would know what to say. She would weave the tendrils of her mind with his, reaffirming who he believed himself to be. He never felt like an amalgamation when she was with him. He just felt . . . whole. 

-

The days wore on endlessly and Mr. Stark stayed for three of the five. Vision's previous negativity when faced with the Avenger faded as he began to somewhat enjoy the company. He wasn't Wanda, but he served as a constant for a bit. Vision helped him make sense of some of his projects and provided any necessary research.

“Well, Sonny, I’ve got to tell you, I haven’t got you pinned down at all,” Mr. Stark complained as he was headed through the Compound to his car. Vision escorted him, both relieved to have the reminder of his servitude gone and disappointed that a fellow team member was leaving once more. _Sonny_ , a humanoid robot from the movie _, I, Robot,_ in which a dystopian world proves that robots are incapable of making decisions beyond cold statistics and devastating logic. Then again, _Sonny_ was able to dream and operate above the laws instilled upon robots. The entirety of the movie was based heavily on books by Isaac Asimov _._ He made a mental note to acquire books from his collection. 

“How do you mean, Mr. Stark?” 

“I mean, your tests don’t match the first round of data I took. It’s like…you’re evolving. I mean, it makes sense. We don’t know the true nature of vibranium or how each of your components interact with each other. I guess it’s reasonable that you’d be emitting higher concentrations of brain or circuit board activity . . . Or whatever it is you got up there.”

Vision blinked at the thought of that. He supposed he hadn’t run much of his own diagnostics, but then, he wasn’t sure that his systems would’ve noticed something like that. He nearly smiled; it was good news right? Humans changed and evolved over their lifespans, adjusting to their lifestyles and choices and for people. If Vision was evolving similarly, then his doubts about his own humanity maybe weren’t as founded as he originally thought. 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to keep my secrets,” His voice was amused; he learned that when speaking with Mr. Stark, keeping things light or amusing was often the best route. He was also partly created by the engineer. Perhaps some sort of sense of humor would evolve with time too. 

Mr. Stark flipped open a pair of sunglasses and put them on, patting Vision on the shoulder. “Have it your way. I’ll be back again in a few days. That simulation room should be up and running soon.” 

Vision hovered there until he left, until he realized what he was doing, and lowered himself once more. Conflicted and confused, he returned to his room once more. But instead of floating as he usually did, he sat in one of his chairs, letting part of his mind be alert to the Compound while the other wrestled with never-ending questions. 

-

Two days passed agonizingly slow, even if Vision reasonably knew that both were no longer than any of the other days. There was little activity, so Vision took to trying to keep a schedule for himself. He patrolled three times a day. He read. He visited the wildflowers behind the patio. He missed Wanda. He missed the bustle of the team. On the fifth day, he was notified of the return of Captain Rogers and Sam Wilson. He greeted them readily, reporting the lack of activity and the eventual return of Tony Stark. 

“Thanks, Vision,” Captain Rogers acknowledged. “Feel free to relax the rest of the day.” 

Vision took the time to attempt to clear his mind of all his ruminations. However, after a bit, he realized he had missed the return of Natasha and Wanda. He knew because he heard her, felt her presence on the edges of his mind. _Vizh_? 

He touched back, feeling her relaxed state and her mind calmer than usual. However, concern flared up over top of the thoughts. _Are you okay_?

 _May I come see you_? He replied. He dreaded trying to explain to her what he’d been feeling recently, especially when he wasn’t certain he’d been feeling it at all. He had an inkling she’d already seen it when he’d been so willing to open his mind to her when he felt her. 

_Always_. 

It only took a matter of moments to phase through the walls of his own room towards hers. The door was open and he stepped inside, pausing momentarily until she realized his presence. She was returning the contents of her suitcase to her dresser, while tossing some others into the small hamper next to it. She turned around to see him and her smile was wide. “Hey,” she greeted warmly. But her eyes were shielded with concern. “You seem strange. Did something happen while we were gone?” 

He felt awkwardly, his heart wishing to explain but his mind restraining him. It was Wanda - if he could share anything with any person, it would be her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t already known something was wrong. “No, nothing happened at all. It was . . . rather boring.”

Her brow furrowed and she stepped close, gesturing towards his head with her hand. “May I?” 

He felt a flutter in his chest, but it did not feel good like it normally did. “I -“ 

“You can say no, Vizh. It’s up to you.” 

Those words again. They posed autonomy, suggested free will, and yet did he have that? Would he ever have that? He didn’t mean to succumb to the surge of frustration he felt and even without her in his mind, she seemed to sense it. Her hand crept over his forearm and he met her eyes, relaxing nearly instantly. He nodded, allotting her permission. He could not form what he wanted to say. The easiest way was through their connection. Her eyes flicked between his as she entered his head. He watched the smile fade more and more from her face and he couldn’t help the rise of guilt that he caused that look on her face. 

“Vision,” she said firmly. “Tell me what you feel right now.” 

He flexed his jaw, trying to discern what to say. “I am frustrated, I believe. I am confused. And . . . I think I am sad.” 

“Those are real feelings, Vizh. I can feel them in you. The others . . . They can’t see that yet. But they will. It’s okay to be confused about who you are, you are still learning and changing,” She tilted her head, her eyes softening from firm to gentle. “May I show you?” 

He nodded and this time she stepped even closer to him, reaching up and touching her fingers to the sides of his temple. Little wisps of scarlet weaved around him, allowing her to touch their connection with a different intention than just simply talking and tapping into emotions. She joined him once more, opening her mind to him in a way that he could see himself. He was shocked at what he found; to her, he was pure light. He could feel his own self, as he did everyday, but he also felt the uniqueness that she presented to him. Greater than that of the parts that connected him. Greater than the planes of Jarvis and Ultron, greater than the mind stone, greater than the vibranium that laced his synthetic skin. A rush of emotions replaced the negative ones and he couldn’t help the sense of peace that floated over him. Her voice was genuine and sweet as he opened his eyes. “You are you, Vision.” 

There was a long moment where they stayed that way, watching each others' eyes, minds intertwined. It reminded him of when she was vulnerable at night, beckoning him to her room when nightmares plagued her and he would offer his mind as a solace. Except, he was the one in this moment with vulnerabilities. When she finally retreated, the feeling of peace did not leave him and she looked shy, flicking her eyes from the floor to him. “Next time we have off, we should go someplace. Sightseeing, maybe.” 

He smiled at her. “I’m not sure my appearance would be considered low profile. But it is a lovely thought.” 

Wanda stepped back from him and he found himself missing the closeness. “If you wait until I finish unpacking, we can settle for watching a movie? I’ve got one I’d like to watch with you.” 

“I would very much like to do that. Will you tell me about your trip afterwards?” 

She nodded with a flash of a promise in her eyes. Before she turned from him, he sent her a final though. _I missed you greatly, Wanda_. 

He felt a familiar burst of warmth and she replied, 

_I missed you too, Vizh_. 

-

They sat close on the couch, enough that Wanda could lean on his shoulder. They started the movie, called _Tarzan_ , based on a book with a similar title. It had been rewritten many times, but Wanda claimed Disney was her favorite. It was about a baby who was raised by apes. Vision had no qualms over it, as with most movies (especially if Wanda requested it). However, as the movie progressed, the young lad continuously feeling out of place because of his differences from his family, Vision became a bit uncomfortable. Perhaps if he could watch a film without over analyzing, it would not bother him so. But finding too many aching comparisons to the last few days of his struggle, he found himself shifting and stirring as if he wanted to leave. He did not want the feeling of peace she had instilled in him to vanish so quickly. He did not want to leave her side. 

_“You know what I see? I see two eyes, like mine . . . Two hands? That’s right. Close your eyes. Now forget what you see. What do you feel?”_

Wanda leaned on him, nestling her cheek against his shoulder and he was reminded once more of what she showed him. He felt . . . He didn’t know how he felt. But it filled him utterly, making no room for doubts or troubling thoughts. Perhaps it would take a bit of time to prove his humanity to his teammates. It also seemed it would take a bit of time to distinguish just what this reoccurring feeling was. 

But it was a comfort to know that he was, in all his self, enough to her. He was starting to find that was truly all that mattered to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these two so much. I just want them to be happy. Thank you all so much so far for the wonderful reviews! They always make my day so much better! Hope you all are well!


	5. It's My Party (I'll Cry if I Want To)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthdays can be a harsh reminder of the fact that you're the last living half of a whole. But Wanda decides she's going to be just fine, with the help of her favorite person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be a little bit of a mix of Wanda and Vision and the slow introduction of those who have helped or comforted Wanda in the future. I'm growing more terrified by the week with WandaVision and my writing ideas are becoming more needed. Also, it was Elizabeth Olsen's birthday recently and I just had to commemorate that through some fic. I did not list Wanda's age because I thought I originally knew how old she was until WandaVision stated otherwise and now I am just confused. 
> 
> This will also introduce the popular Wanda and Vision trope of him containing her nightmares while she sleeps. Because I adore the thought of him keeping watch over her sleep, I too shall take part in this trope. 
> 
> Also side note : I feel like a lot of fic collections only include one chapter of grief, but that's really not how grief works. Wanda missing Pietro will affect her the rest of her life and that will be reflected here (and in other episodes)

Wanda had went to bed crying and woke up knowing it would be a bad day. Her eyes were still puffy and feeling tight, her cheeks blotchy in her bathroom mirror. She did her best to wipe away her sleep, splashing cold water on her face and taming her mussed hair. She had woken up several times, disturbed by her dreams, and after the third time, gave up on picking up her things thrown by scarlet bursts. She sighed as she dried her face, staring into her own green eyes in the mirror. 

She had been doing so well.

It had been days since her last bout of nightmares and though grief often bounced around inside her chest, like a little ball in a box, she was left feeling happy or at least content most days. But she had retired early last night, feeling the heavy weight of grief on her shoulders and the dizzying effect it had on her mind. She'd felt sick most of the day, but it was with the onset of night that it had pained her so strongly that she couldn't help but weep until there were no more tears left in her eyes. 

Today was their birthday. 

She felt her eyes become bleary again and she looked away, unable to watch her face contort with that familiar agony. It was their first birthday that she would spend alone, the first of all the rest. When they were little, their birthday had been a source of great fun and excitement for them, especially in the sense that they each got one present from their Papa when he came home from work. Their mother would always make their favorite meal, paprikash, and sometimes, if they were very lucky, a dessert at the end of the night. But after their parents died and their lives were overturned, birthdays became irrelevant. They were a painful reminder that it had been another year alone, another year in the orphanage, another year with nothing. Pietro always did his best to give her something, whether it was a flower he found growing out of concrete or a sweet treat he'd just managed to buy (more likely stole). Somehow he always remembered what day it was or he would forget and make up a day to give her a little birthday present. It always caught her off guard, so she never had the chance to reciprocate with something. He always told her it didn't matter anyway. 

Now she somehow managed to remember the day. She wished for nothing more than to be able to give him a gift, a hug, anything. 

She left her bathroom and got together some training clothes, not allowing herself time to linger on anything. She didn't need to make herself upset. Today could be just like any other day. She _needed_ it to be like any other day. A red athletic shirt, black leggings, sneakers, she ignored the fact that her eyes were still red with upset and headed out of her bedroom towards the kitchen. She planned to stick to her routine - routine was distracting and the unchanging nature of it was peaceful. But after tripping over nothing, she spilt her tea nearly as soon as she made it and the scalding hot water burnt her right hand, leaving painful red splotches that she was sure would swell. Struggling not to cry or break the mug out of pained frustration, she set it in the sink and cleaned her mess, before rinsing her skin under some cool water. She bit her lip at the sting, glad that the kitchen was empty and her eruption of tears remained hidden in the sink. 

Once she'd had herself somewhat settled once more, she gave up on her morning and made her way through the Compound. It hadn't crossed her mind until then that she'd seen no one. Even if Sam was late or Rhodey had someplace to be, or Natasha was plotting the day with Steve, there was _always_ someone in the kitchen. More specifically, Vision was always around in the mornings. Always. But he remained nowhere to be seen and she couldn't even feel his presence within the vicinity. In fact, she couldn't feel anyone nearby. Wondering if she might have read the time wrong, Wanda hurried her steps and made her way down the sidewalk towards the Training Facility. The morning was gray and misty, little droplets making her hair heavier and her arms cold. 

But when she entered the big room, she was stunned to see no one. 

"Friday?" She said tentatively. "Where is everyone?"

The AI spoke somewhere near the wall at her control dock. "Captain Rogers has cancelled training for the day."

"Of course he did," Wanda muttered. _That wasn't an answer either._

She found herself not caring. Both annoyed and relieved that training wasn't taking place, Wanda wandered back to the Compound and headed for her room once more. Taking her shoes off, but not bothering to remove her slightly wet clothes, she sat on the bed and observed her hands. Her skin tingled painfully and though she was lucky that she moved quickly, her skin still ached horribly when she touched it. Risen red blotches stained her pale skin and she laid back on her bed, holding her hands close to her. She wanted to cry, but she was too tired to. She didn't even know if she wanted to cry from pain or sadness or irritation or all three. With a flick of her uninjured hand, she turned out her lights and hid her face in her pillow, feeling as though perhaps she'd be too tired to sleep too. 

She wasn't sure how long she'd been lying there, hand burning, eyes itching with unshed tears, that she felt the outreach of a mind hovering nearby. She thought twice about reaching back. She was miserable and hurting and upset, but Vision was her closest friend. Not once did his presence ever worsen her grief or topple her already weak emotional state. If anything, he made her happy by being near her. And if she turned him away, the thought of him aimlessly wandering would leave a residual feeling of guilt she didn't want to begin to consider.

She nudged his mind, inviting him in. He phased through the wall within an instant, as if he'd been waiting for her permission for a while. "Wanda," he greeted softly, crossing the floor to her side. His expression was eager - excited maybe? - until he met her eyes. His mood sobered and he knelt by the bed. "Wanda, are you alright?"

With someone else, she might've been annoyed. With Vision, she only felt honest. "No. I didn't sleep well. And I got up early for training, that we didn't even have, and burned my hand with my tea."

He glanced down at her hand, spotting the red blotches on her skin. Carefully, he reached out and enveloped her hand in his. Even his soft touch, which normally grounded her and set off a racing in her heart, burned and she bit her tongue as she stiffened. He glanced sharply up at her and released her hand apologetically. "It is a superficial epidermal burn. I will be right back."

Not more than a few seconds passed as he rose, went to her bathroom and returned with bandages, some sort of antibiotics and a cold washcloth. Vision met her eyes for permission once more as he knelt but she was already offering him her hand. He took it with a sort of carefulness that spoke volumes; he didn't want to hurt her, even if it was nearly impossible to avoid. His eyes were focused, whirring, and his mouth was set in a determined line as he did so. He gently held the cold compress to her scald, before tilting his chin up towards her. She couldn't help the burst of affection in her chest, a warmth that blossomed and grew into a rosy red in her cheeks. 

"I was hoping perhaps no training would help bring more relaxation to today," Vision said, his eyes not leaving her. His hand was warm where he cradled her right hand in his. "I wish the message had arrived sooner so that you could have stayed in bed longer."

Wanda tilted her head, blinking as she took in his words. A gentle sweep against his mind revealed genuine dismay at her minor injury and the fact that she had woken up early after a rough night. But there was still an underlying excitement combined with nervousness about something. His eyes shifted as she did so and she knew he felt it. "Why?"

He smiled softly, looking away from her eyes and towards their hands. She was surprised by the slight amount of cheek she saw in the upturning of his lips. But his shyness was even more distinct when he replied, "Birthdays are meant to be enjoyed . . . and training, though prudent to our future missions, is not always enjoyable in its early scheduling and vigorous itinerary."

That gave her pause. He knew it was her birthday. She supposed it was information that was available to her teammates. Files on her and Pietro, on their childhood in Sokovia, and their time in Hydra. She just hadn't expected him to have found it out - but with a second thought, he _would_ have cared enough to do that. But normally, human traditions and celebrations went over his head. He always did his best to understand, but for a person who saw the wonder in life _every single day_ , she wouldn't have expected him to wonder over birthdays. Then again, it had recently been Rhodey's birthday and Vision had been very curious during the party. 

_Why do you celebrate the day you were born?_

_The day you were born is not the day you were conceived. Why do you not celebrate that day as well?_

_Are there customary gifts that come with celebrating a birthday?_

_Is the cake always vanilla with chocolate frosting?_

_Is it always cake that is served?_

_Are some birthdays more important than others?_

He did not meet her gaze now as he moved on from the washcloth and began to apply some of the antibiotic to her burns. He used small methodical circles to rub it in without too much pressure and she watched him, unable to find words in the moment. He was so careful, as though the smallest movement might hurt her. As he began to un-stick some bandages, she finally said, "I realized it yesterday. That today was our birthday. My first of the rest without him."

Vision's hands stopped and she realized he'd finished sticking on the bandages. He retracted himself and the loss of his warm palm made her want to reach out and take it back. He cocked his head, his earlier half smile faded. "I did not consider the effects that the loss of your brother would have on a normally joyous occasion. I did not mean any offense, but I'm afraid that I may have planned too far ahead."

She raised her brow. "Vizh," she started off slowly. "What do you mean?" His tentative smile was telling enough. She groaned and laid back, throwing her good hand over her eyes. "Vision, is there a party waiting out there for me?"

She could hear him shuffle to his feet and with her mind still outstretched, felt his pure embarrassment, guilt, and slight disappointment. She softened, removed her hand from her eyes, and patted the bed next to her. With a moment of hesitance, Vision took a seat beside her. He picked at a loose piece of string and she imagined if he didn't have red skin, he would have a blush creeping up into the apples of his cheeks. She also couldn't help the combination of feelings in her; the affection he brought out in her, the exasperation she felt at the thought of a party _just for her_ , the underlying grief she still felt. "I should have considered the circumstances more closely."

"Vizh," she started once more. This time, she did not hesitate to reach back out and take his hand in hers. He turned with the gesture, his eyes so full of innocence that she nearly started crying again right there. "It is very sweet of you to have done that. I have not celebrated a birthday in many years. How long until I was expected?"

He shifted his hand in hers, his thumb sweeping over her knuckles. "I was originally going to guide you to the patio by four o'clock, so that you might have most of the day for yourself. I came to check on you when I saw you had not emerged for lunch."

"Would you stay here with me until then?" She asked, propping herself up against the headboard. 

He adjusted himself better, following her lead and leaning back against the back as well. He did not release her hand. "Of course. Could -" He paused, looking at nothing for a moment as if he were trying to determine what to say. "Would you tell me more about your brother, Wanda?"

Her moment of stunned silence sent him into a bit of a stammering stupor, trying to backtrack as quickly as he could. "Only - I mean, only if you - if you, you don't wish -"

She tightened her grip on him, squeezing his fingers and he fell silent. "Vizh, it's alright. I would love to tell you about Pietro. I could not think of a better way to celebrate his life."

She leaned against his shoulder, allowing a quiet few minutes to pass as she thought it over. It was a lot at once. The fact that Vision had found out her birthday, planned for it, and gave her extra time to sleep in and have time to herself filled her with so much affection and appreciation for him that she considered just sitting here with him all day long. She didn't need anything else. Not only that, but he wanted to hear about her brother. Though the effort of recalling good memories about him would encourage more tears, she was touched that he asked at all. She focused on the curl of his fingers in her, the warmth of his body alongside hers, and somehow, it seemed like the easiest thing in the world to tell him about their life. 

"Pietro was . . . he was the only thing I had after our parents died. He became protective, especially since the kids at the orphanage were not always the kindest. We left when we were sixteen, but it was difficult to make any money. But there were many people in Novi Grad who we knew and sometimes it felt like we had people who looked out for us. Pietro liked one of the girls that helped us, but he was always very . . . _koketna_ . . . with the girls. But he did like this girl, Zrinka. She was alone too, raising her brother, Costel. I maybe was too hard on them sometimes, but maybe I was a little afraid that if Pietro found love, he would not have time for me."

She paused with a soft chuckle and suddenly her tears were no longer dried up, her eyes filling with them. "Clint . . . it was Costel that he saved. It was Costel that Pietro died for and I don't even know where they are now."

"All of the Sokovians were able to return home once they recovered at the Shield bases."

"Not to Novi Grad. Not their home."

She tilted her chin up towards his face, but he wasn't looking at her. "No," he agreed solemnly. His mouth opened a little, trying to formulate words, and she gave him time to figure it out. "What makes a home, Wanda?"

She was caught off guard by his question and she sat up a little more, turning her body to face him better. She pulled his hand into her lap and when he looked at her, she could not decipher the look on his face. "Home . . . means different things to different people. It can be a place, but usually it is a place with many memories. Some people don't need a place because they are with people who feel like home. Does that make sense, Vizh?"

He blinked, his eyes narrowing as he considered. "It makes sense, though, I admit that I cannot decide if I can apply the definition to myself."

"What do you mean?"

"There are very few memories that I have. I have not experienced life for as long as anyone here. I have memories of Jarvis and Ultron, but they are like databases of something that happened to someone else. I feel as though I have not gathered enough memories to decide if this feels like home or not."

Wanda felt her heart go out to him. He was a new being, yet fully grown and with all the world's knowledge at his fingertips. She'd seen the way he made his way through decisions, the way he struggled with the difference in literal sayings and figurative expressions, the way he used logic and statistics to calculate his words, the way all that flew out the window when he suffered from the plight of human emotions. She'd seen his mind, the pureness that was imbued with beautiful emotions, so confusing and new to him. "Just think about what memories make you happiest. You will be able to understand what I mean as time passes."

She was careful not to reach out again. She wanted to allow him the privacy to think. But when he replied, it was not about him at all. "Was Pietro your home?"

The tears that had started to blink themselves away returned and she felt one escape and trail down her cheek. He took his hand from her and wiped it away, apology on his face. But she waved it off, tucking her legs underneath herself. "Yes. For a very long time. That's why today has hurt. It feels wrong to be here without him," The troubled look on Vision's face was so out of place that she nearly wished she hadn't said anything. "But I will be alright, I think. Bad nights, bad days, they happen. That's why I am glad I have you. You've made it a lot better today."

"I thought you were not in favor of a birthday party?" He replied, confused.

She smiled at him and laid back down, resting against his side. "You've made it better just by being you, Vizh."

She didn't look in his eyes but his mind, normally a calm and collected place, was suddenly loud, flooding her senses with feelings of gratitude and fondness and bashfulness. Wanda took his inability to respond right away as an opportunity to start talking once more. She talked about their childhood, the good things. She talked about how she got a scar on her knee because she and Pietro were racing some kids from their streets and one of them tripped her. She talked about how Pietro was scolded because he fought the kid who did it. She told him about her pets, their two dogs and their cat. Pietro had always been fond of the dogs, but Wanda was the only one that the cat allowed to carry him. She would carry him all through the house and outside into the garden, over her little shoulder, even though he was a massive ball of orange and white fluff. Big Sontse, he never would let Pietro hold him, no matter how hard he tried. She talked until she realized she had run out of good memories, but it didn't matter. It felt good to speak about him, especially in a context where the other person wouldn't wince in pity or guilt. Her heart felt lighter in a way and though there was still the weight of him on her heart, the warmth in her was stronger. 

She felt herself growing tired as they laid there. It was strange - if it were any other person, she'd feel embarrassed or nervous to have them there with her. It was a _man_ in her _bed_. But somehow, with Vision untouched by the world's cruelties and human sins, she never felt safer than when he was with her. It wouldn't even come to his mind, those dark thoughts of man. He might not even know what she meant if she tried to explain it. "I'm sorry I am falling asleep, Vizh. Like I said, I did not sleep well last night."

"You still have three hours until I am meant to escort you to the party. You should get some rest," He encouraged. She felt him starting to phase through her bed to leave and she managed to grip his wrist before his density completely shifted. 

"Would . . . would you lay here with me?" She couldn't escape the normal implications of it and she felt heat rising in her cheeks.

But as she predicted earlier, Vision was unperturbed by her request, merely reinstating his density and sinking down the bedside once more. "Of course, Wanda."

He was very warm as she rested against him and she suspected he was changing his internal temperature. He tended to do that when she sat close to him, like it was his own instinctual reaction to close contact. It was endearing and sweet and she couldn't help herself when she leaned up and kissed his cheek. Though brief, his skin was just as warm and soft under her lips. "I hope that there might not be any nightmares," she said hopefully, filling the air before it could fall silent with her gesture. She pulled a blanket close, resting her cheek on his chest. "Vizh, could I try something?"

He simply nodded. She briefly wondered if her kiss to his cheek, as small a gesture as it had been, was as electrifying to his senses as it had been to hers. "I've been thinking about our ability to connect our minds, Vizh. Do you think . . . do you think we could try and keep it while I am asleep? Your mind is such a peaceful place and I thought maybe like that one night . . ." She felt suddenly self-conscious about her idea and she twisted the rings on her fingers. 

"It is a good idea," Vision agreed readily. "When I was able to establish a connection that morning, you were able to sleep much more soundly."

Hurriedly, she added, "If it is hard on you, please don't feel obligated-"

"I want to, Wanda. It is not hard for me to help you."

A moment before she reached out to him, she felt another strong pang of affection that sent a fleeting thought of what would happen if she kissed his cheek again, if she lingered longer there on his skin. Immediately, she threw the thoughts away. She felt a flicker of guilt for the thought, for the impulsive moment of _I_ _want_. She didn't need those ideas returning if she was going to allow her mind to rest in his. She didn't need to burden his peaceful mind with her impulse or her wants. Making sure she was fully comfortable, she stretched out her mind. He was there waiting, his own subconscious circling hers with calming, abstract thoughts of warmth and beauty and wonder. She let out a quiet sigh and closed her eyes. 

-

She hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep until she felt a gentle prodding in her mind, a soft nudge against her shoulder. She blinked her way out of sleep and took in her surroundings. There was a nice orange glow in the room, the sun pouring in through the windows. Vision was still at her side and she realized she had her arm slung across his hips. She sat herself up as a little bit of embarrassment plagued her and in the same instance, remembered that her thoughts were being cradled by his mind. 

"You slept well," he commented, his blue eyes focused intently on her. His mind was unraveling, letting her return to herself. It felt strange, lonely, in a way. "It is 3:30 now. I wanted you to have the time to get ready if you needed to. It is currently 70 degrees Fahrenheit outside - ah . . . 21.1 degrees Celsius."

She smiled at his thoughtful correction and crawled out of bed, missing his touch instantly. She was still in her training clothes, so instead she found a nice gray shirt and some jean shorts. "Thanks, Vizh. I'll be right back."

She changed quickly, brushed her hair out, and checked her eyes. Her eyes had always been a tell of a bad night, but it seemed that a few hours of sleep had kept her from looking like usual red-rimmed mess that occurred. After applying the barest of makeup, she re-emerged. He was standing now, holding his hands at arm's length as he observed them. She wondered for a moment what he was thinking, why he looked so perplexed, but his concentration was refocused on her within a second. She thought she saw his eyes dilate as he looked at her, but she was sure she imagined it. 

"Wanda, I have something for you before we go," Vision told her. She realized with a flick of his eyes that there was a small, neatly wrapped gift on her desk. She felt her heart expand again. 

"Vision, you didn't have to get me anything," she cooed, coming closer to touch the silver ribbon and red wrapping paper. 

His hands clasped nervously. He didn't often show any sign of anxious functions, but she knew well enough that he did suffer from it on occasion. "It is customary to get a gift for those celebrating a birthday. It is not much."

She unwrapped the gift as carefully as he had wrapped it, revealing a small box. She could still feel his eyes watching her, nervousness still pouring from him. Inside, there was a necklace, silver-chained, with a little pendant at the end, shaped like a leaf. It was small and simple and beautiful. She carefully unclasped the necklace and put it around her neck, thumbing the pendant thoughtfully. She looked up at him and he seemed relieved by the broad smile that crossed her face - a smile so strong that it made her cheeks hurt. She set the gift down and with two steps, strode forward and wrapped her arms around him. He hesitated for a moment, before letting his arms wrap around her as well. "Thank you, Vizh. It's perfect."

She pulled away, but entwined her fingers in Vision's. His eyes trailed to their hands, before looking at her expectantly.

"Let's go see that party of yours, Vizh."

-

He had invited Clint and his family. There was no chaos, no over-the-top music and lights. It was simple, friends gathered on the patio, enjoying snacks, and watching the sun set on the river. The kids played in the hot tub, Sam and Steve and Tony and Rhodey played corn hole (which resulted in some heavy competition), Clint and Natasha and Laura sat together enjoying some drinks, and Wanda ended up standing next to Vision by the river, looking for the first star of the night. Glancing sideways at him, she slipped her hand into his once more. 

"This feels a lot like home," she admitted, squeezing his hand. There was no way to thank him with words, but by the way he held her hand so gently, the way he looked at he, she was certain he knew. 

The first star seemed so bright and obvious in the darkening sky. Her brother always used to find the first star before she did. She felt that sweep of grief, that tug in her heart for him, but it didn't feel so lonely as it once did. Not with the beautiful day she'd been given. 

_I hope you know that I am going to be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might come back and edit this chapter, cause I'm not sure I am happy with it? I had trouble ending it, but maybe that's what's best for that. Grief doesn't really end or conclude, but there are other things that make us happy when we need it. And there is nothing wrong with being happy in those moments either. 
> 
> These two also are definitely getting closer to understanding that affection this strong is a bit more than friendship. I'm def considering writing this as if Civil War was not about to take place. They deserve to be happy for once. 
> 
> Who's ready for ep 8 tomorrow? haha cause I'm not


	6. But What if I Fall?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vision helps Wanda learn to utilize her powers for flight for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is a reference to the quote, "What if I fall? Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?" It was too sweet a quote not to use for this idea. I cannot explain to you folks how much I love these two and I am terrified for Friday. They are my comfort characters and I can't leave them to canon. 
> 
> This one is very short, but it came to mind while I was editing another chapter and I had to get it out there. Vision is gradually becoming more and more distracted by the lovely Wanda.

"Wanda?"

Vision entered her room with a simple stride through her wall, a book in hand. She jumped from her place on the bed, her tv playing some sort of show. Her eyes were wide and he was momentarily distracted by the color of green in them. He found that it was easy to look into her eyes, finding nothing but acceptance and kindness. Though right now, there was a bit of confusion flickering there now. 

"Vision? Did you have a question?"

He blinked, holding out his book as he recalled why he had entered the room in the first place. "Yes," He paused, tilting his head. "Well, no. More of a suggestion, I suppose."

She flicked her gaze to his book, her brow furrowing as she read the title. " _Greek Mythology_? _"_

"Yes. I find mythology quite interesting to divulge in. But a particular story caught my attention," He opened the book to where he'd kept a finger, revealing to her the story he'd paused on. "It is the myth of the fall of Icarus."

The laugh track of the television punctuated his sentence and with a flick of her hand, it shut off. She patted the bed beside her and he dipped his head in acknowledgement, coming close to sit beside her. She furrowed her brow as she leaned close to examine the story. He was again caught in a momentary pause, her shoulder brushing his. "What is it about?" she asked, her nose wrinkling as she posed her question. 

Vision traced the edge of the pages, finding himself growing more and more eager to share his idea with her. "Icarus and his father, an inventor named Daedalus, were in prison in Crete. They attempted to escape by creating wings made of feathers and wax. Daedalus warned Icarus not to fly too closely to the sun or the wax would melt and he would fall."

Wanda was listening intently, before she reached out and touched the small illustration of Icarus falling in a heap of feathers and limbs. "And he did?"

Vision nodded. "Yes," He closed the book, setting it onto the stool that sat at the base of her bed. "My suggestion was that I believe that you might be able to fly."

He was overeager; he knew it as soon as she made a face of perplexed amusement. He knew he wasn't always as tactful when it came to speaking, especially when considering ideas such as hyperboles or figures of speech. He was still learning and was beginning to understand when to catch himself before saying something possibly rude or insensitive because of his lack of understanding. But this time he truly did not know what he said to cause such a look on her face. 

"Vizh, I don't think I understand why Icarus is the example you chose for wanting me to learn to fly," Wanda explained, small giggles lining her words. 

Vision considered that and he surprised himself when he realized what she meant. Perhaps it _was_ strange to think of Wanda's potential in flying after telling the tale of a man who fell to his death in an attempt to fly. His lips tweaked with a small, embarrassed smile as he thought about his response. "I admit I did overlook the implications of my comparison," he chuckled. "But my suggestion still stands. Icarus was a human with only wax and feathers. You are an enhanced and powerful woman."

A blush darkened Wanda's cheeks and she looked at her hands for a moment. "I don't know. I don't even have full control over the normal stuff. The only thing Hydra made sure I perfected was twisting the fears in peoples' heads. I haven't even perfected the ability to lift a person, let alone myself for an extended amount of time."

He couldn't help an internal wince. Captain Rogers had come up with the idea that Wanda could try to give a boost to a teammate with enough momentum. He'd been the volunteer and though her attempts were admirable, the Captain had more often than not hit the wall instead of sailing over it. His persistence over it was admirable, but Vision knew that Wanda was growing tired of the lack of progress. "Perhaps learning to propel yourself would help you learn to do the same to others."

She stared at him, her eyebrows pressed together as she ruminated his words. She glanced at the book again, biting her lip. He felt a swoop of warmth, though he didn't really understand where it came from. But before he could pursue the feeling by attributing it to something she did, she regarded him once more, a look of gentle seriousness on her face. 

"I will fall." Her voice was full of unsure promise, but he could also detect a hint of interest in her voice. 

He made sure his own voice was full of certain assurance. "Then I will catch you."

-

It was too late that night to attempt their first practice. Vision had suggested in the morning, since they didn't have training so early then, but Wanda had declined. She didn't want the other teammates to know she was going to attempt flight - she was worried that they would become overeager and that if she failed, they would be disappointed. Vision wanted to assure her that she would not fail, but she seemed stubborn to believe that their attempts would be futile. They ultimately decided to go to the roof where they'd be unlikely to be seen. Though Vision had wanted to start off in the grass, where landing might be easier, Wanda reminded him that they wouldn't have that option if they were in a mission.

So, the sun was starting its decline when they met. Vision had considered how to go about their practice all day long and he made sure to arrive in his own suit, versus his normal, casual attire. Wanda was in baggy capris and a short-sleeved shirt, pulling her hair up as she walked across the concrete towards him. As she tightened the ponytail, he observed quietly, his mind working quickly and quietly. 

"Wanda?"

"Hmm?" Her green eyes flicked up to him. 

"Do you know the differences in your abilities?"

Her lips pursed in confusion. "How do you mean?"

He paused, glancing at the sky as he tried to find a way to word what he was thinking. "When you are able to access a person's mind or when you are able to throw bursts of energy, is there a tangible difference in how it feels?"

That seemed to give her pause, tilting her head. She moved her hands subconsciously, as if trying to decide exactly how it felt. "Yes, but I am unsure if I could describe it. My um . . . mind powers-"

"Telepathy," he added helpfully. 

A small smile touched her lips. "Telepathy, yes. It feels more like - like a string almost, that I am following to another person. But the other things - they feel more like, um," She opened her hand and with a twist of her fingers, a small ball of scarlet energy hovered in her palm. "I don't know. But if I hold it long enough, it feels like it builds and builds, like a dam about to burst."

He watched the ball as she held it for a moment longer, before it dissipated. He reached out and with a look to her face for any signs of protest (there wasn't one), he cupped her hand in his, palms up so that he might observe. "Could you do that again please?"

Without much effort, her powers manifested once more, a chaotic ball of red mist and weaving wisps. _It is beautiful_ , he thought as a side note. Her powers amazed him; her mind was the first he'd ever known and even then, he knew she was very unique. Reminding himself not to get distracted so often, he noted that there was a clear amount of energy pulsing through her. "So far, the extent of your psionics is not fully known. But, I believe if you were to apply the same amount of force in both your hands with some downward motion, you could start by propelling yourself forward, much like you have been practicing with Captain Rogers. Perhaps a small amount of levitation might be the best initial approach."

He released her hand and she kept the scarlet growing, manifesting the same in her other hand. She looked nervously down at herself, before she allowed the power to grow, the ball of energy surpassing her palm and growing outward towards the curl of her digits. With a straightening of her arms, she expanded her fingers. Energy surged from her hands, her body lifting for a moment before her eyes widened and she dropped back the few inches to the ground. But before he could reach out to reassure her, she garnered her energy once more and levitated again, though this time, a little higher off the ground. She hovered there a moment, using her arms to balance herself. He hovered to where she was, lowering his density until he matched her height. Her hovering was shaky and her eyes were unnaturally bright, but she managed to focus on him for a moment and cast him a beaming smile. 

She finally dropped, quicker than he did, but she landed on her feet. He set himself down across from her and sees a tear track its way down her cheek. He suffers a fleeting moment of panic, scanning her for injury, until he realizes she is still smiling. "I did not think - I -," A wavering laugh escaped her and she wiped the tear away from her face. "You see heroes around you, doing amazing things with their abilities. Sometimes it is hard for me to think that I could possibly be one of them, not when all I believed myself only capable of destruction."

Vision felt like something was squeezing his synthetic heart to hear that. He wished she could see herself for what she truly was. She was not a thing of destruction; she was . . . he realized he did not have adequate words to describe what she was. But he knew she was _good_. Since convincing her of her own worth was far beyond what they had come here to do, he instead offered genuinely, "You are not Icarus."

She laughed, a breathy, wondrous noise. "We will see. I haven't actually done any flying yet."

Wanda took some time to hover a few more times, growing more and more confident as she allowed herself to rise higher each time. Vision observed her carefully, following her up each time and making sure he was prepared if she were to fall. He took in her developing mannerisms in flight, the way she tended to lean more towards the left than the right, the way her right leg bent at the knee as she levitated, and the way her arms outstretched for better balance once she was in the air. All the while, she smiled proudly as she accomplished higher height each time. 

As they touched down after the fifth time, he reached out and touched her wrist. "Perhaps this time," he suggested. "You try pushing off with your powers. I believe it will mimic a large jump. I noticed that when you drop back down, you are subconsciously cushioning your fall when your powers fade. If you are able to propel forward and cushion yourself once you land, it may be a step closer to true flight."

Wanda paused, her eyes focused on nothing as she tried to picture his explanation. He wasn't expecting it when she suddenly jerked her arms down with a burst of bright red flame and she was surging across the roof. With a momentary lapse of action, Vision flew after her. She'd started off too powerfully, her balance hadn't held, she was moving too swiftly -

He made sure his density was returned just enough to cushion her impending fall and he made sure to cradle her head as the force of her propulsion knocked him off his feet. He landed on his back, her on top of him. He was unfazed, but his concern was not for himself. She wasn't moving off of him and he felt that flicker again of panic as he held her head and ducked his chin to try and get a glimpse at her face. Her shoulders were shaking and - _oh._ She was _laughing,_ hiding her face in his chest as she caught her breath. When she lifted her face, her green eyes were alight with the setting sun. He was struck by her, for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, with her flaming eyes and and dark loose hair and nose scrunched up with amusement. 

"Thank you for catching me," she finally managed to get out around bouts of laughter. "I think I was a little excited."

Vision couldn't help but smile up at her, searching her eyes for any sign of discouragement and finding none. "I will never let you fall, Wanda." It was an unreasonable promise to make, especially since he might not always be by her side, but somehow, it seemed like the only promise to make. But somehow he knew, that as long as was possible, it would not be a promise he would ever break. 

Her blush returned to her cheeks and she sat up, climbing off him and sitting on the concrete. She looked towards the trees and the river, bathed in a bright orange glow as the sky darkened above them. "Maybe I will just practice the hovering before I try _that_ again. Can we try again tomorrow?"

Vision sat up as well though he missed her close contact. "Of course, Wanda."

They sat together in silence for a few moments, as the stars started to emerge and the sky turned to night. But her happiness - her contentment - was so bright, Vision was certain that she shined just as greatly as the sun had. Wanda glanced at him from the corner of her eye, a smirk growing on her lips. "We should probably head back down. I'm pretty sure Sam wanted to play a board game tonight."

He nodded his agreement and together they rose. He opted against phasing through the floor, instead choosing to walk alongside her towards the stairwell. He became distracted by her at least three more times that night, including when he walked her to her room after playing games and she had shyly kissed his cheek again. Though he could not fathom why, he could not stop the strange warmth in his chest or the eagerness he felt to continue their practice tomorrow. Vision was not aware of it, but he had flown too closely to the sun;

he was falling and falling very quickly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Wanda is shown levitating (or its at least implied in the floor's reflection) at the very end of Age of Ultron and this fic takes place after that, but we're just gonna pretend she doesn't actually know how to do that yet so that I can play with the idea of Vision helping her learn to fly. Also, the intention of Icarus being compared to Vision falling in love with Wanda is completely accidental until I got to the end and thought of that last line. I got way too excited over the connection. 
> 
> Side note : I hated how little description there was here, but my brain is mush and I also now have Covid, which has left me very tired. So, these next few chapters will be a bit more simplistic and sweet, rather than profound and very descriptive.


	7. Love is Blind (and Lovers Cannot See)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little moments between Wanda and Vision are often noticed by their teammates, even if they themselves are innocent to it.
> 
> Title borrowed from Shakespeare's line "Love is blind and lovers cannot see, the pretty follies that they themselves commit".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine with how close these two are in this little world I've written, there are going to be moments noticed by the team. The idea of them figuring it out these two love each other before they themselves actually do is always a fun fluffy thing to write about. Last Friday killed my soul, so I needed to post again before tomorrow. 
> 
> Some characters may be a little ooc, but only because I haven't practiced writing from their end as often as Vision and Wanda.
> 
> Some things :  
> \- I couldn't resist the trope of Steve and an awkward moment of possible fondue. forgive me, i am weak  
> \- There's a variety of ways that I refer to Vision in this (robot, android, synthezoid). This is because each character has different thoughts and feelings about him and his state of being.  
> \- I apologize heavily in advance for Rhodey and Tony's conversation

"Come on," Natasha urged. "We're going to the store. Sam is making chili tonight and we are not having chili without cornbread and crackers. Don't let him tell you otherwise."

Wanda stood up from her position on the couch next to Vision. With a quick glance, Natasha noted that they were watching _Anastasia_. Though she often was doing her own thing, planning with Steve, visiting Clint and Laura and their little goblins, undertaking training and making sure to keep Fury and Hill in the loop, she still managed to keep track of her teammates at the Compound too. She made sure to look out for Wanda specifically (both of her own volition and because Clint often asked after her) and because she knew what it was like to grow up without true parents, without kindness and compassion. If Wanda was choosing to be an Avenger, choosing a life full of fighting and uncertainty, then she would make damn well sure she had a team that cared about her.

She had noticed a lot of things about Wanda since they'd all moved into the Compound. Wanda loved tea, specifically green tea. She also liked to be cozy when they weren't training and she avoided wearing red if she could. She wore rings on nearly all of her fingers and liked to twist them when they were in meetings. She wasn't confident in her powers, but she was growing stronger every day. She also noticed who Wanda spent the most time with. The culprit, the brightly colored android sitting next to her, watched as Wanda left his side, gaze following her. He was akin to a clueless puppy and Natasha nearly rolled her eyes. "Vision, come on, you too."

His surprise was clear in the widening of his eyes - did his eyes have _gears_ in them? - and the opening of his mouth to probably protest some sort of bullshit answer that came from someone else. _Captain Rogers suggested that_ or _Mr. Stark recommends -_

"No arguing, let's go. The world is gonna have to meet you sooner or later, why not at a grocery store?"

His willing nature didn't allow him to reply to that and instead he fell into step beside Wanda, following Natasha out of the Compound and to the car. Natasha had stolen Steve's keys to his little yellow bug. The less flashy, the better. And nearly all the cars Tony left them were flashy. The bug was the best bet if she was taking two of the weirder Avengers with her. They were both quiet and Vision paused before he got into the car. Wanda glanced back through the passenger door. "Vizh?"

"Sorry, I've never actually rode in a car before. Flying is much quicker."

Natasha adjusted the mirrors and the seat (Steve really needed a bigger car), and cast a glance back at him. "Well, our best bet for fitting in while we are out is to do normal people things. And I hate to break it to you, normal people things involve not flying."

Vision seemed to take this heavily into consideration as he climbed into the back, trying to make his broad shoulders smaller as he got comfortable in the back of the small car. His face was so serious and she wondered for a moment if he ever smiled. "Buckle up, kids."

Town wasn't very far away at all, a mere five minute drive on a quiet road. They arrived at the store with no issues and very little conversation. Natasha sighed heavily as she walked into the store, her two charges behind her. There were many stares, only directed at Vision, but to his credit, he was more focused on the sight of the groceries around them. But with the staring and whispering and the silence of the two she dragged along, much more of this felt a bit like torture. "There's actually a few other things we need. You two mind finding them? Wanda, I think we're nearly out of tea. And get some milk and maybe some kind of dessert."

Natasha left them standing there, off to find some sort of cornbread mix and saltines. She knew Vision didn't speak much unless he truly had something to say, but she had hoped Wanda would be more talkative. She seemed tired today - maybe she had a bad night. She couldn't blame her. It had only been a few months since she'd lost her brother and her home. She'd already experienced so much loss in her life, but Natasha could see the strength in her. She knew the rest of the team did too. As for Vision? She wasn't quite sure what to make of him, but she didn't focus on it too much. It was much easier to just take him as he was. It was clear in the way he tried to keep himself from hovering off the ground, the way he asked questions, the way he observed, that he wanted to fit in with them. Natasha wasn't going to try and make that harder for him by delving into the question of whether or not he could ever be truly human. Let the synthezoid be what he wants. 

Clearing her mind of too much thought, she found what she was looking for. Gathering the boxes, she started a quick walk through other customers to find her charges. It wasn't hard to follow the glances over their backs, the children staring and as she rounded the corner to the frozen aisle, she expected to find some sort of scene or disruption due to Vision's appearance. What she found instead made her stop in her tracks, a smirk forming on her face. 

Wanda stood facing the popsicles, cradling a gallon of milk to her chest and her box of tea. Vision stood closely behind her, carrying his own gallon. She was laughing quietly, turning her head over her shoulder to whisper something to him and pointing briefly at one of the options. He was smiling brightly, his white teeth standing out against his carmine skin as he replied just as softly. He reached past her and withdrew red, white and blue popsicles, which encouraged another little giggle from her. She gave him her approval with a nod, saying something that must've surprised him, as his smile became a little more baffled. Neither of them noticed the older woman down the aisle, casting concerned, rude glances at them. They were far too entranced by each other and so, didn't even noticed her standing there waiting for them. Natasha didn't bother to hide that fact either. 

"Bout done?" She couldn't help the little teasing note that crept into her voice. 

Both heads shot up to her. Wanda's cheeks burned red, but Vision didn't quite have the sense to understand her tone. "We have acquired all the items you asked for, Miss Romanoff," he explained, holding up the popsicles with his free hand. "Wanda thought Captain Rogers might enjoy these particular frozen treats."

 _Bomb Pop_ , the box read, with the Os replaced with stars. Natasha smiled. "Yeah, he'll love them. Come on, Sam won't stop texting me to hurry up."

They followed her like obedient little children and the woman from the aisle is behind them, scowling and eyeing Vision as though he was some sort of demon ready to make a move at any moment. Truthfully, the big guy was more focused on taking things from Wanda to set on the conveyor. Natasha found herself willing the woman to stay silent, but most of her prayers were never answered anyway. 

"Everyone thinks they can just go anywhere looking like whatever the hell they want," she muttered. "Walking around like a damn circus clown."

Natasha knew better than to engage idiots (then again, maybe not, because her phone was buzzing again in her pocket and she knew exactly who it was) and to her surprise, both Wanda and Vision stayed quiet as well. But with a subtle glance at the two of them, she realized maybe they weren't all that silent. Wanda had slipped her hand into Vision's and there was a conversation that took place in their eyes. Tony had mentioned once that he suspected Vision and Wanda would share similarities in his functioning and her powers. Natasha realized in that moment how much sense that made (she'd never admit that to him) and for a moment, she wondered what it would be like to hear someone without words. _I don't need anyone in my head_ , she thought with bitter amusement. She forced back the reminder that Wanda had once been inside hers and brought out the worst memories, the ones she thought she had long buried. It wasn't as if Natasha could blame her for doing what she'd been ordered to do, what she'd been trained to do. 

Vision politely took up the bags and they left the grocery store without any further issues. 

"Maybe the team would want to watch a movie all together tonight," Wanda suggested once they got in the car. "After dinner."

Natasha pulled out of the parking lot, heading back to the road that would take them back to the Compound. "Sounds like a good idea."

From the back seat, Vision's carefully modulated voice spoke up. "Perhaps we could watch _The Lord of the Rings_? There is a plethora of praise for the movie series. I would very much like to see the films so that I might compare my own viewing of it. I also wish to read the books soon."

Natasha hummed her agreement. "I know Steve has _Lord of the Rings_ on his list. That's always a fan favorite. But we probably won't be able to watch all three tonight, that's like nine hours worth of movie."

"All three extended editions come to a total of eleven point four hours or eleven hours, twenty-three minutes and fifty nine seconds."

Wanda smiled broadly as Natasha rolled her eyes. The spy pretended she didn't notice the look she sent backwards, just as she pretended she didn't see every other moment they shared since they left. She knew how to keep a secret and it was clear that these two didn't even see what was going on. She just wondered how long their little bubble of unknowing would last - she wasn't the only perceptive person on the team. But she wasn't about to be the one to say anything and so long as they were unaffected in the field, they weren't harming anything. She would let them have this. 

-

Sam sat down in one of the chairs with a bowl of popcorn, shifting on the cushion as he settled in. Everyone else had nearly joined them, save for Wanda, who had said she needed to go to her room to change into pajamas. They were on their third movie of the week - actually, the third movie in their trilogy. _The Lord of the Rings_ had proved popular so far, though half of them had already seen it. Nat, Rhodey and himself had all seen it at least once in their life - Sam once when they first were in theaters, Rhodey had seen it sometime with Tony, and Nat had watched it with the Bartons. However, Steve, Wanda and Vision were Tolkien newbies - though Steve claimed he tried to read _The Hobbit_ once when it was published ("I think it came out in 'thirty-seven. I tried to read it while I was sick with scarlet fever" were his actual words). 

Rhodey was on the floor, leaning back against the arm of Sam's chair. Steve and Natasha shared the long couch. And Vision sat alone on the love seat next to Sam. His participation in movie night always surprised Sam. He figured Vision had access to any movie ever - why would he choose to sit down and watch them? - but he claimed the experience was better than just knowing. He also shocked most of them by showing up in something other than the usual sweater and slacks - he wore a knit long-sleeve shirt and sweatpants. His feet were bare. The Vision was never casual, so the first time Sam saw him, he thought he had malfunctioned in some way. He had to admit, his initial thoughts on the android were just that - was an android. But the big guy was making an effort to fit in and making it a lot more complex of a thing to consider - so Sam made an effort not to rib him too much about his whole humanity quest. Though he'd never get over how long-winded Vision's little _equations,_ as he liked to call them, could be. 

"We need one of those big bean bag chairs," Sam suggested, looking at the large expanse of floor that stretched from their seats to the massive television on the wall. "The kind everyone wants to fight over when it's movie night."

"Why would you want to fight over it?" Vision asked curiously. 

Sam couldn't help a subtle rolling of his eyes. "Because it's a big ass pillow, who wouldn't want to have it to themselves?"

The menu came to life on the screen, the familiar haunting music filling the surround sound. The writing on the ring circled the screen and from the floor, Rhodey said, "Hey Vision, you can learn languages right?"

Vision's blue eyes flicked towards him, blinking thoughtfully for a moment as everyone looked at him expectantly. He didn't seem to follow where the conversation was going and merely stated, "Yes. Why?"

Rhodey gestured towards the screen and the Tolkien language presented. "Could you learn that? The Elvish?"

Vision turned his gaze towards the unfamiliar script as it turned into the typical _Play Movie, Select a Scene_ , etc. As per usual, there was a long moment before he began to reply. "The alphabet used on the ring is called Tengwar, but the language is actually Black Speech, spoken predominantly by the races of Mordor. Elvish is actually divided into two main branches known as Quenya and Sindarin and they originate in Common Eldarin and Quendian. They were actually inspired by Mr. Tolkien's love for . . ."

Sam was only half-listening as movement caught his eye. Wanda had come into the room, looking comfy. She had on some shorts and a soft shirt. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Sam would be lying if he said he didn't think Wanda was beautiful. But he couldn't help but look at her like a little sister. She'd been through a lot and though he may not always be great at sentimentality, he did his best to look out for her when he sensed training might be too much or the day had been a little harder than others. It didn't take much to know that the grief for her brother would affect her for a long time - hell, it would affect anyone. It was the least any of them could do to help her when she needed. 

He expected her to sit down next to Natasha on the couch or in the empty chair on the far side of the couch. But he watched as she picked her way across the floor, past Rhodey (who was glass-eyed as Vision was still explaining the long history of Tolkien's linguistics) and past the room on the couch. Sam watched with curiosity as Vision subconsciously scooted over on the love seat and Wanda settled beside him, sinking into the cushions and pulling her blanket off her shoulders and around herself. She tuned into what Vision was saying immediately, big eyes watching his face as he spoke. 

"There are also several independent languages from Elvish. It is really very fascinating how much effort Mr. Tolkien put into making his crafted world functionThe m."

Rhodey shrugged, shaking his head. "So . . . you can learn it?"

Vision seemed confused, before awareness brightened his features and he smiled with embarrassment. "Oh. Yes, I am very capable of learning the extent of the Elvish languages."

There was a soft laugh from Wanda and Vision glanced at her as he leaned back into the couch again. Sam realized he was staring when Natasha drew his attention again as she pressed _play_. "Alright everyone, shut up. This movie is the best one."

Sam tossed some popcorn in his mouth, chalking up his observation to the fact that the love seat was much more comfortable than the other furniture and Wanda was taking advantage of it. "Friday, get the lights," Steve called to the AI as the movie started in with some classic _Smeagol_ backstory. The lights dimmed and they all fell silent as the story unfolded. 

Sam didn't think of it again until later, when they took a quick break after the first disc ended. 

"That wasn't the end," Steve questioned, an eyebrow quirking. "Why did it end there?"

"Extended edition, Cap," Sam explained. "The movie was too long, they had to split it into two discs."

"Let's take a quick break," Rhodey suggested, standing up to stretch. "I'm gonna make myself some popcorn too."

"I need some water," Wanda agreed.

Each person got up to utilize the break, save for Sam and Vision. Sam looked over at the android, who's eyes were watching where the others had disappeared to the kitchen. He appeared to be unfocused, but there was a small smile on his red face. Sam tilted his head, setting his bowl on the floor by his feet. At the risk of Vision launching into another built-in Encyclopedia reading (Sam knew he didn't try to make conversation as with him as often as he should - what do you even ask an all-knowing robot?), Sam asked, "So, you liking it so far?" 

To his surprise, Vision seemed very eager to answer, his eyes bright and smile broadening. "Oh, I am quite enjoying it. I look forward to reading the books once we have completed the film."

"You know it probably isn't exactly the same," Sam warned. "Sometimes people are disappointed when they watch movies based on books."

Vision was unfazed by that idea however. "I like to think that reading the books will help me understand the liberties that the directors took with their film-making. i don't expect to be disappointed, since I do not have the predisposition to be wary of book-to-film adaptations."

"You really make the rest of us look like dicks," Sam chuckled. He got up for a moment to remove Part 1 and replacing it with the second disc. He sat back down as the menu came to life. 

Vision's smile wavered in a perplexed way. "I apologize, I do not mean-"

He waved him off, glancing sideways as the other four wandered back in. "I'm just joking with you, man."

Steve and Natasha sat back down on the couch and Rhodey migrated to the empty chair. Wanda padded back across the hard floor and sat back down next to Vision. It would be imperceptible if he hadn't been paying attention, but as she sat down, she leaned against Vision's shoulder. He leaned back ever so slightly, accommodating her subtle nestling into him. She pulled her blanket up and like it came as a shared thought, Vision followed her attempts to cover him and helped her smooth out the soft covering. Sam returned his attention to the movie, but his interest had been piqued. _There's definitely something there._ A smirk grew on his face, but out of the corner of his eye, he felt someone watching him. 

Natasha was staring at him, a clear instruction of _No_ on her face. _So I wasn't just imagining something going on,_ he thought, hiding his smirk in his hand. 

The movie progressed, reaching its peak and settling into the conclusion. By the time it finished, it was well past one am and everyone was sleepy. Rhodey turned in first, while Natasha remained on the couch. 

"Those were really good," Steve commented after the movie as he headed towards his bedroom. "It's up there with Star Wars and Rocky for sure. Get some rest, guys."

Wanda and Vision got to their feet synchronously. "Goodnight, Nat, Sam," Wanda murmured, swaddling herself once more in her blanket.

Vision stayed near her, nearly glued at the hip. He did not explain himself, but followed her from the room, pausing only to give Sam and Natasha an appreciative nod. "Goodnight."

As soon as Sam knew they were out of earshot, he snapped his attention to Natasha, but she was already giving him a scolding look. "Before you say anything, no, they are not together."

"But-"

"You leave it be, Sam. Wanda is still figuring out her new life and Vision . . . well, he's figuring out life in general. They don't need you making smart-ass comments about an attraction they don't even realize is there yet."

"I didn't think he was - well, you know!"

She shrugged, getting to her feet and stretching her arms over her head as she yawned. "I don't think it's really our problem to worry about. Just . . . try not to be stupid about this? Let them have it."

Though her tone was still light, he could sense a note of genuine seriousness edging her words. Sam raised his hands (he wasn't an idiot), palms out in surrender. "Alright, alright, I won't. You'll let me be a little worried though, right? Do you really think it'll be okay?"

Natasha gave him a tight smile, but her eyes were certain. "We can't help who we love. I think if anything would really be okay, it would be those two."

As they walked together towards their respective bedrooms, Sam couldn't help a small chuckle that escaped him. 

"I don't know, I think maybe we should be more worried about the Vision's innocence than Wanda's."

She slapped him goodnight. 

-

It was Sunday. 

Steve was used to waking up at an early hour on weekdays. He gave himself a little more leeway on weekends, mainly because there were many late nights on weekends. Their free nights were spent watching movies (like last night), or playing games (fighting over Monopoly) or entertaining guests (namely Tony). And leeway meant waking up at six instead of four. He woke up with his stomach growling - and his first thought was pancakes. They were easy enough and he could make enough that everyone else could have some when they woke up. 

He went through the motions, taking a shower, brushing his teeth, put on some sweatpants and a white t-shirt. By the time he was finished it was nearly seven. He opened his bedroom door and wandered down the hallway. He was more than surprised when he nearly walked directly into Vision as he was phasing through a door. 

"Oh, good morning, Captain Rogers," Vision greeted.

Vision was usually very formal in attire, but he was still wearing the clothes he had on the night before when they concluded their _Lord of the Rings_ watching. Normally, Steve wouldn't notice something like that. But it was that combined with the fact that Vision hadn't emerged from his room, but _Wanda's_. Steve felt a thorough combined rush of concern, protectiveness, and awkwardness flare through him. 

"Vision," he replied as coolly as he could. 

They both continued walking towards the kitchen, Steve trying to figure out how to address the possible implications of what just happened. His embarrassment was climbing, but Vision seemed strangely unbothered. Steve got out the Bisquick while Vision sat at the counter, observing a book that had been left there. Sure, it was a recipe book that Sam left out after Friday's dinner, but Vision didn't discriminate over reading material. Steve had been waiting for him to possibly say something, but he merely turned through the pages, pausing momentarily to take in the pictures of the finished products, seemingly entranced by various soup recipes. _He's really not gonna make this easier on me_ , Steve thought despairingly. Maybe Natasha was right; he was too old, too stuck in his displaced decade. But he was also the leader of the team; Wanda was young and Vision - well, Steve didn't try to guess the limitations on how well-versed he was with emotions and human . . . reactions. He didn't want them to do something stupid because Vision was learning and Wanda was grieving. 

He winced at his own thoughts as he mixed the large bowl of batter. He didn't want to immediately assume anything of either of them. 

_Damn it_.

"Did you sleep well last night?" He asked awkwardly, turning towards Vision as he heated up the stove top. 

Vision glanced up for only a moment. "Oh, I do not require sleep. At least, not in the same sense as you do."

Steve blinked in surprise. "Then what do you do all night?"

"Normally I enter a stasis for a few hours until the sun rises."

Steve mulled that over. Maybe he didn't know as much about his newer teammates as he should. He could admit that when Vision was first created, he'd been mistrustful of him. How could he not? He was created by Ultron, with the intentions of decimating mankind. His initial reaction to life had been to lunge at Thor. He was a being of great power, especially if the stone in his head was as ancient and deadly as Thor claimed. If he had turned out in any other way, things could be very different now. But the Vision who lived here was very different than he believed any of them imagined he would be. He wasn't like a robot - he had too many human qualities. He wasn't quite a man - he was too synthetic for that. He wasn't Jarvis, no matter how many times Tony accidentally addressed him as such. He wasn't Ultron - that much was clear by his unending wonder for the world. He wasn't Tony or Bruce or Thor. But Steve didn't _know_ him, so it was hard to see him as just The Vision. He felt a rush of guilt. He should be trying harder to do so. He poured himself a glass of milk as the first of the pancakes cooked on the griddle, spatula at the ready. 

"But irregularly, Miss Maximoff requires my services."

Steve choked on his milk and sat down the glass, coughing roughly. Vision watched him catch his breath with an innocent tilt of his head. "Are you alright?"

"Peachy," Steve began, before he realized his pancakes were burning. He quickly flipped them onto an empty plate, covering them with another to keep them warm. "Vision, I need to talk to you."

"Are we not talking now?" He wasn't intending it as a sarcastic comment, though a baffled smile crossed his red face. 

Steve poured more batter on the griddle, busying himself so that he didn't have to look the synthezoid in the eye. "I mean, I saw you come out of Wanda's room."

"Yes, she needed me last night. It was a very rough-"

Steve coughed from deep in his chest, trying to clear the growing mortification from his throat as his cheeks burned with discomfort. He interrupted Vision with a scolding bark, "Damn it, don't say things like that, Vision. Show some respect."

Vision's content smile had lost all of its light-hearted moxie. He closed the recipe book, his eyes shifting across the counter as he retreated into thought for a moment. Steve caught his pancakes before they burned, adding them to the plates. There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence, when Vision finally spoke, his voice carefully lilted but full of quiet, terrified dismay. "Captain Rogers, I am afraid I have made a terrible mistake in my wording."

Steve narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. His own tone was still sharp. "How so?"

Vision opened his mouth to consider for a moment, before he spoke again, his hands folding nervously on the counter top. "I am afraid that I did not initially consider the implications of my actions and vague wording. If I may explain myself better, it may allow things to become a little clearer."

Steve nodded his permission, unsure of where this was going. Vision gently slid the recipe book off the counter and into the shelves of the side of the island. "Since we defeated Ultron, Miss Maximoff has suffered from an irregular amount of nightmares, brought on by the sudden death of her brother. We have incidentally discovered that we are able to connect our minds with a sort of telepathy, which makes it much easier for her to sleep at night. It has become easier for her, but sometimes, if they are bad enough, her powers surge. I stay in her room with her to share my mind so that she may be able to sleep. I left this morning so that she could shower and get ready for the day. I am not sure that it is an occurrence she wanted the whole team to know about."

Steve felt his edge fade away and understanding filled him. Nightmares were a fickle thing and all too familiar. He had his own coping mechanisms to deal with bad dreams, with having to deal with them on his own most of his life. Wanda had lost her parents, but she had Pietro. Until suddenly she did not and she was in a new country with unfamiliar people who had only recently become her allies instead of her enemies. He should've _known_. That guilt returned and he promised himself he would do better, not just with Vision, but to make sure Wanda knew she had friends here that she could trust. 

"I owe you an apology then," Steve admitted. "I may not fully understand it, but I'm sure Wanda appreciates being able to sleep."

Relief flooded Vision's eyes, the irises twisting mechanically. "I am very honored to be able to help. She has helped me greatly in understanding the world so far. There is little I would not do for her."

There was something in his voice, some sort of reverent softness and Steve's earlier suspicions evolved. He believed Vision and he appreciated his admission, but he was nearly certain that there was something perhaps a little more innocent taking place. And that the two involved weren't even aware of it. His concern faded, replaced by a warm smile towards his teammate. "That's a good bond to have."

Vision's eyes fell to the pancakes and the large amount of leftover batter. "I do not eat, but may I try helping?"

Steve held out the spatula as Vision got to his feet. "Have at it."

Needless to say, Steve and Vision both managed to burn some, but not all of the breakfast. Luckily, a damp-haired Wanda came to their rescue. Steve stepped aside, letting the young woman steal the stove. He watched as she laughed, bumping her hip against Vision and asking him to retrieve the butter and syrup as the rest of the team groggily entered the kitchen, drawn by the smell of burning batter. They danced around each other easily as they took over the breakfast Steve had started and he merely leaned back against the counter. He'd keep an eye on them, but there was no mistaking the brightness in Wanda's eyes, in her smile, as she watched Vision accidentally drip batter all over the counter. 

Steve acquiesced. Happiness was not always common or achievable in this life. He knew that better than anyone. He wasn't about to try and cheapen theirs.

-

"Hey, I thought Vision was coming?"

Tony spoke around the crust of a piece of pizza, his hands busy working on the diagnostics test of the War Machine suit. Rhodey leaned against the metal bench, finishing off his own pizza and setting the napkin aside. "He had plans," he answered his best friend, shrugging. 

Tony shot Rhodey a look, quirking one of his eyebrows with surprise. "What, did he have a hot date?" He laughed jokingly, turning back to his work.

_Colonel Rhodes, would you tell Mr. Stark that I apologize I cannot come tonight? I promised Miss Maximoff that I would help her practice what we went over in training today. She wishes to study mission awareness and tactics._

"Something like that," Rhodey replied with a chuckle. He didn't know what he expected when it came to Vision. Rhodey had known AIs for as long as he'd known Tony. His robots, the ones now whirring near the table with the impending promise of accidentally annoying their creator, had minds of their own while being able to follow direct instructions. Jarvis hadn't just been an intelligence, but a friend. It was a loss that still affected Tony, he knew, because of his occasional slip-up when addressing Vision. Not only that, but Rhodey knew that Tony wished to be close with Vision as he once had been with Jarvis. The only problem was that where Jarvis had been artificial and really didn't have a choice in interacting with him, Vision seemed to have his own autonomy. He said he wasn't Jarvis, even though he sounded like him. It felt like a strange loss of a friend, only to hear his voice from a sentient being now. 

A sentient being who spent a lot of his time with a young Sokovian woman. 

"What, is he wooing Friday?"

The click of heels warned both men of Pepper Potts' arrival in the lab, a coffee in hand as she brought some paperwork down. She tuned into their conversation immediately, standing by Tony's shoulder as she waited for him to finish. 

"Have you really not noticed?" Rhodey asked. It wasn't necessarily something they did well to hide, if they were even attempting to do that. Their affinity for one another was evident in nearly everything that they did. Vision hovered near her as often as he could in training (though he managed to avoid sparring with her). They sat together during meals, movies, games. They took walks together and always seemed to exchange looks that seemed to mean something between them and no one else. But then again, Tony wasn't around them as often as Rhodey was. 

"Noticed what?" Pepper asked, sipping her coffee. 

"The Vision and Wanda."

"Oh my god, yeah. Are they together?" she asked eagerly. It was becoming very clear that Tony was the only one left in the dark. It was his own fault for being too involved in trying to access what was left of Jarvis than actually paying attention. 

Tony threw his hands up in the air, demanding attention. " _Hello_ , what? Vision is - he's an android. It's not possible. It shouldn't be possible."

Rhodey gave him a look of annoyance. "Tony, I know it's hard to think of him as anything other than a mixture of what Ultron wanted and what Jarvis was. But I'm telling you, the dude is _weird_. He's learned a lot of stuff really fast. He's got all these thoughts and . . . philosophical ideas about life."

Tony was stubborn, as per usual. "Learning how to be human isn't the same as actually being human. Mimicry is in his programming - Jarvis always picked up on cues and the behaviors of the people he interacted with. Friday is the same way."

"I'm telling you what I've seen. I'm there all the time. I _live_ with them. And Vision . . . he's different. And I'm pretty damn sure he _really_ likes Wanda."

Pepper looked between the two men, her strawberry-blonde hair swinging across her shoulders. "Can it really be so hard to believe? _You_ have feelings."

Tony mocked a face of pure offense. "You wound me, Ms. Potts," He stood up and kissed her, ignoring the paperwork she tried to hand to him and he went for the pizza box. Taking up another slice, he shook his head and narrowed his eyes. "He's never mentioned any of this to me."

Pepper sighed, setting the papers down and folding her arms across her chest. Rhodey felt her frustration. He always did his best to be patient with Tony and he loved him to death, but sometimes he could be so pig-headed. "Why should he? You've only ever shown interest in what he can do, not what he wants or what he wants to learn. _I_ haven't even made a good effort on that front. No one really has, save for Maximoff. I don't blame them for being close. They're the newest and she came over here alone. It only makes sense they might latch onto one another. Not to mention I think the stone gave them some sort of weird shared connection anyway."

"Are they a danger to each other?" Pepper asked sagely. 

Rhodey considered that. Vision was brand new and eager to learn anything he could. That provided a danger in itself, but mostly to himself when it came to overstepping normal boundaries or not understanding all the things that made humans so . . . human. Wanda was quiet so far, but she'd gradually been emerging from her shell. Grief was no little thing to deal with and none of them quite knew her very well. But nights like the past weekend, having dinner, watching movies, really helped. Knowing that the two had each other in this awkward stretch of uncertainty . . . it couldn't possibly be a bad thing. He was glad they had each other, even if the rest of them were unsure about the duo so far. 

"I don't think so," Rhodey answered. Tony watched him quietly and he could tell that his friend's mind was working a thousand miles a minute behind his eyes. "I think it's pretty innocent. I'm not sure they even realize."

"So it's that obvious?" Tony questioned, tilting his head. A cocky smile spread across his features and Rhodey prepared himself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth. "Chip off the old block, huh? Should I give him _The Talk_?"

Rhodey couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped him and Pepper rolled her eyes. "You're terrible."

"I can get way worse. You didn't even give me a chance to get to the vibrator jokes."

"Let's _not_ ," Rhodey protested. "That's the last thing I want to think of when I'm wondering about Vision."

"Oh come on, you can't tell me it doesn't make you think."

"You were there when he was created! I don't want to know how freaky Ultron was."

Pepper held her cheek in her hand, a combination of horror and amusement on her features. "Regardless of _that_ , Tony, don't you dare say a thing to Vision. He doesn't need you confusing him or giving him sex advice or . . . _encouraging_ him to act on anything. Let them be kids in love."

Rhodey did his best to reel in his amusement, fixing Tony with a serious look. "Pepper's right," He couldn't help the upturning of the corners of his lips. "Don't be a _dick_."

Their snickers were met by Pepper's sigh of defeat. 

-

"Hey! Anyone miss me?"

Clint walked out onto the patio and was greeted by the sight of the Avengers lounging about. It surprised him - it _was_ a Friday night, but he wouldn't have expected Cap to forgo training just because it was the weekend. Then again, was a few months enough time to say they were ready for a mission? It was hard to say. He supposed it wasn't technically his business anymore. He had enough running and chasing and fighting (diapers) at home to do. 

Natasha lifted up her beer bottle from the hammock, a pair of sunglasses on her nose. "There's Mr. Mom. You're late."

Clint shook his head, that familiar rush of exasperated affection running through him as he smiled. "Late for what? Nap time?"

Sam pointed at him from his position by the lit grill. "Why else would we invite you? You've got to be the king of it by now."

"Where's Red?" He asked curiously. Usually Vision was hovering wherever there was life to be found, taking mental notes on how to be more like everyone else. It was a little bit of a surprise to find him absent. _Wanda is missing too_. 

Sam flipped a burger, the grill searing it with a hiss of grease. "He's in New York for the weekend, Tony wanted to see him."

Steve was tossing a frisbee with Rhodey, which Clint was pretty certain was probably a mistake due to the way Rhodey was sweating while Cap seemed to barely have a light sheen. "Clint. Wanna join?"

Nat sat up in the hammock, gesturing Clint close. "Hang on, Steve, I want to steal him for a minute."

He wandered over to her and absently, noted that her red hair was getting longer. "What's up?"

She flicked her eyes towards the river bank down towards the gazebo. He followed her eyes, spotting a lone figure, before he looked back to his partner. She tilted her head for a moment, a small smile on her lips. "It was my idea to invite you up here. I think she would appreciate having you around this weekend."

Clint frowned. Concern replaced his earlier levity. "Did something happen? Is she alright?"

Nat reached out and patted his shoulder, before she leaned back once more in the hammock. "Calm down there, dad. She's been doing just fine. Why don't you just go talk to her? She didn't know you were coming up this weekend."

He sighed. It was clear she wasn't going to explain any further. He trusted her though. He wouldn't have left Wanda here if he wasn't sure that there would be people here to look after her and help her learn to control her abilities. He couldn't do that from a little farm in Missouri. But here, as an Avenger, he knew she would have a chance to change the world like she and Pietro had wanted to do since they were ten years old. He checked in when he could, but he didn't want to overbear on her. But the fact that the team seemed to be getting along so well, while she sequestered herself alone by the waterfront didn't sit well with him. He made his way down the grassy hill, preparing himself for whatever conversation was about to take place. 

She didn't notice his footsteps until he was nearly beside her. "Hey."

She snapped to him, surprise quickly replaced by welcome in her eyes. She leaned forward and embraced him, hugging him around the middle tightly. "Clint! I didn't know you were coming up."

"Though I'd surprise you," He answered with a smile to match hers as she drew back. "I'm staying till Tuesday, so I'm planning on seeing how you're doing in training on Monday."

"You should join. I'm pretty sure I could kick your ass," she said smugly, a stifled laugh giving away her teasing nature. 

"I should hope so. The most I've been doing is redesigning my dining room and rocking a baby to sleep."

A soft hum came from her in response, but just as soon as her happiness had shone through, it was just as quickly replaced by a contemplative despondency. He looked out to the water, the current, and the way a little rippling eddy formed behind some rocks that jutted out on the edge of the bank. Sometimes it hit him, when he was fishing at the pond with Cooper and Lila or when he was sitting on the bed with Nathaniel and Laura at night. It wasn't the first time someone had died for him and he was sure it wouldn't be the last. But he was just a kid, a kid who wanted to take care of his sister and help his people. He was alive because Pietro wasn't. Now, Wanda was alone. 

"What are you doing down here? Party's up there."

Wanda blinked slowly, turning her green gaze to him. "Just thinking, I suppose." He waited, sensing she had more to say. She paused, shifting from his eyes to the water once more. She crossed her arms over herself and he was surprised to see a small smile of meekness steal her expression. "I, um, don't talk a lot to anyone up there."

"You know they all care about you, Wanda, just like I do. You don't have to be alone in this."

She shook her head, biting her lip as she tried to reply. "I'm not alone. But I'm used to . . . having another mind to converse with."

"Pietro?"

She snapped her eyes to him, confusion flickering across her face. "No, well - yes, but um . . . Vision and I are able to talk in - in our minds. Usually we help each other when it comes to small talking with everyone else."

Clint had to think about that a moment. It wasn't an admission he had expected - and he certainly hadn't expected her to reveal that her closest friend was the android. He also never thought about the fact that the stone that gave her powers was also the stone that was resting in the crest of Vision's forehead. Maybe it made sense, but a rush of protectiveness ran through him anyway. "Well, you don't need him all the time right?"

As soon as he said it, he realized it had been the wrong thing to say. She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to. Clint had always been able to read eyes (it came in way easier when on missions with Natasha) and hers filled with discouragement and shame. He shook his head, trying to retract his statement by reaching out and pulling her back to him. "Hey, you know you can talk to me."

She sniffed against his shoulder. "Um . . . he's just been - been a really good friend. Sometimes when I feel like I am alone, he just seems to . . . _know._ I know he won't be gone long, but - but I miss him. Maybe it is because I was used to having Pietro's mind there with me. And now Vision's. I don't like just sharing my thoughts with myself."

She sounded embarrassed by all of it and he realized he had done that. He had made her ashamed of her friendship. It was clear now that there was something more that she was leaving out, but he wouldn't try and get more information out of her. He patted her back reassuringly, feeling guilty for having depreciated something that was clearly important to her. He stood there with her a while longer, quiet and letting her find comfort in a hug. "I'm sorry, Wanda. I didn't realize. But hey, I'll be here and anything you need, you got it, alright?"

She leaned back and smiled at him. "I'll be okay. I think I just have a lot on my mind. We can go up there, if you'd like."

Clint nodded. "There's a hammock and a burger up there with your name on it."

She chuckled and he offered her his arm. She took it up gratefully and let him walk her back up to the rest of the team. None of them made a big deal of it, which Clint was extremely grateful for. But Natasha did shoot them a look and while Wanda headed to the grill to get some food, he returned to her. "So, the Vision? Out of all of you, she latched onto the Vision?"

Nat smirked. "You seem calm. I figured you'd have gone all protective mode on her."

Realization dawned on him. "They're not - what?"

She shook her head. "No. But they are very close and they are _very_ oblivious to it."

Clint crossed his arms, casting a look across the patio to where Wanda was. "You're sure? How do you know he's not just -"

"Clint, he's not some perverted man. He's a newborn android who wakes up early enough each morning to watch the sunrise. And I'm pretty sure Wanda is a grown woman who can take care of herself."

He sighed heavily, helping her to her feet from the hammock and wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they walked slowly to the grill. "Well . . . if you think it's okay, I believe you. But vibranium android or not, I'll kick his ass if he hurts her."

Nat tapped his side where she had an arm around him. "Yeah, yeah, sure you will. Just don't bring it up. It's way more entertaining for them to figure it out themselves."

"I never knew you were a romantic at heart, Nat."

A pinch to his side made him jump. "Shut up, Barton."

-

Wanda sat quietly with Vision. He leaned against the arm of the couch, reading a collection of Shakespeare. She leaned against his side, listening to him read it aloud. "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players." 

He paused after that sentiment, considering it. He often did this; he would read a prominent quote and would pause to mull it over, his mind enveloping it and absorbing it so he might make sense of it. It did not bother her, but she did grow rather sleepy listening to him speak so methodically. It didn't help that he was so warm and soft against her. 

"Vizh?" She questioned during his pause. 

He turned his head to look at her. "Yes Wanda?"

"Do you think everyone has been acting strangely this past week? Since last weekend?"

She could feel the confusion clouding his mind as he searched his memory. "How do you mean?"

"I mean . . . I don't know. Their minds are strange," she explained. As a second thought, she added, "I didn't go into their minds. But there's something on the edge of it, like they're all hiding something. Even Clint acted strange over this past weekend."

"Well his visit was a surprise. Maybe they were all trying to keep it from you," Vision offered. 

She nestled a bit, resting her cheek against his shoulder. He moved his arm to rest on the back of the couch, warming up his internal temperature, probably sensing her sleepiness. "Maybe. Maybe it's just better not to know."

"Perhaps they will let us in on their secret one day," Vision reassured her. "You are nearly asleep. Do you wish to migrate to your room?"

She turned so that she could see the book and rest her chin on the round of his shoulder. He always surprised her with how comfortable he was to rest against. "Just a few more pages," she murmured. 

She fell asleep leaning against him after approximately five more lines. She had linked their minds right before she had done so, almost like an instinct. He carefully pulled the blanket down off the back of the couch and covered her. After a moment of hesitation, he rested his arm on her shoulder so that she might be resting more comfortably against him. He stretched out his other arm, book before his eyes and continued, logging various quotes he thought she might like. He felt the slightest prickle of unrest from her mind and he quickly softened it, pillowing her mind more firmly in his own. 

He could not find a proper way to categorize the warmth in his chest and the fluttering in his belly. 

Perhaps he could ask one of the others. They might know. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it was a weak ending, but that might just be my tired mind telling me that. But I wanted to end with a little cute moment between Wanda and Vizh, with maybe a little irony thrown in for good measure.
> 
> I am not ready for tomorrow. They are my comfort characters and the thought of saying goodbye kills me. I can't even watch it till later in the day, so I will have to distract myself most of the day. But this story will continue beyond that (honestly, the direction I take it may depend on how the show ends - and how much therapy I will need after it). 
> 
> Also, I appreciate you all commenting SO much. It absolutely brightens my day to see how much everyone likes these stories and it keeps me going with it. I love you all so much! Thank you for showing your love for the story too!


	8. Quick Author's Note

Hello everyone!

I wanted to address you all really quick. Now, don't worry, this little collection is going to keep going for as long as I can keep writing it! But, since we finished off WandaVision yesterday (this story will not contain spoilers if you are worried about that too), I wanted to give people the chance to comment any little moments I can add in to this story!

I would love to know if there are any little headcanons some of you have or if you have any little scenes you would like to see between these two and the rest of the Avengers. Now, I can't say I will write every idea (if this actually is something people interact with) but I would do my best to implement it into this collection in a way that fits the narrative I have chosen. 

It's been so wonderful so far to write this and interact with all of you as well!

I appreciate you all so much and if you'd like to discuss WandaVision or those two in general, feel free to shoot me a message!!

More to come soon (though I want to apologize cause I think the next one might be sad with some comfort cause I need a little of that after the finale)

\- timber


	9. Where There is Deep Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It does get easier to be without. But Wanda receives a letter in the mail that reminds her of what she lost. Luckily, she knows this time that she is not alone as she abides the temporary darkness.
> 
> "Where there is deep grief, there was great love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, WandaVision has wrapped up and I have never been so in love with a show as I have despised what the end of it means. I'm going to miss it a lot (though I am eager for Falcon and the Winter Soldier), so I will be using this fic collection and series indefinitely as my coping method probably for the rest of Phase 4 if I'm being honest. 
> 
> MINOR SPOILER WARNING : A scene will be directly referenced from WandaVision and written out here. It is a canon scene that takes place shortly after Age of Ultron. If you have not watched WV, it is unlikely that it truly spoils anything about the show, but merely adds more depth to these two.

It had been such a good week. 

Training had become less of a necessary hassle and more of a fluid machine. They were starting to understand one another, able to guess one another's choices and use it to their advantage. The simulation room helped a lot, with its interactive and dynamic holograms and props. Wanda even found that the days where none of them were permitted to use their given talent (no weapons, no wings, no powers) were getting easier as she learned how to fight in hand-to-hand. Though she knew it was unlikely to be needed, she felt as though she was doing well. Besides, those days were always entertaining - the team swiftly discovered that though they could usually beat one another, Vision was easily the best. He was able to mimic the fighting patterns and his hand-to-hand was always superior. It was riveting to watch his spar with Steve - both extremely skilled and yet, Vision always managed to stop him so effortlessly. She herself had yet to be paired with him, but she supposed it wouldn't matter much. It wasn't where her strengths lied. 

They had managed to eat together every single night, since they had the time. Training was going so well, that Steve kept ending them earlier. It gave them time to cook and eat meals together. The camaraderie was rich and left her feeling closer to them than she had in all the time since they'd moved in. She was certain their first mission would soon be at hand - and it both frightened her and excited her. She never thought she'd see the day where she would be eager to fight as an Avenger. 

She'd been long awaiting Friday - training had been cancelled (though she was now enjoying it, it was nice to have a day to relax and sleep in). Steve and Sam were out to gather the remaining bit of intel they needed for their first upcoming mission. Natasha had something (she didn't say what) she needed to do for the weekend. And Rhodey spent most of his free time with the military or communicating with the United Nations or with Stark. So, it was Wanda and Vision holding down the fort. 

They planning to enjoy the weekend. Vision wanted to watch some more movies ( _The Lion King, The Princess Bride,_ and _Gone With The Wind_ were among some of the movies on his list - they decided to just go from there). Though Wanda was starting to enjoy the company of the team, she would like the quiet of the mostly empty Compound too. Being able to have breakfast without Sam grumbling over the burnt toast would be nice too. 

Perhaps she looked forward to just spending time with Vision too, if she was honest with herself. She was closest with him and his company was never unwelcome. A quiet weekend with him sounded like a peaceful dream. 

Until the mail came that afternoon. 

The mail was a strange thing to Wanda. Tony Stark had set up a "fan mail" address for the team, which brought in hundreds of cards within the week. They looked through them when they could and often, they were very sweet. Wanda wasn't known by anybody and neither was Vision, so they didn't get any mail. Iron Man got fan mail every week, as did Captain America. There was always a few War Machines / Iron Patriot cards thrown in, with the occasional Black Widow (only by the Barton kids) and every once in a while, a thrown-in Falcon. Stark assured them that they would get more mail after missions became a regular and positive press became more important. But it was as the mail arrived in its usual bag, a big envelope arrived with her name on it. 

It sat on one of the meeting tables, catching her eye as she walked by. Vision was on a final patrol for the afternoon and would be gone for an hour. She'd chosen a book out of his little growing collection and was headed to the living room to curl up on the couch, but she'd been stopped short by it. The yellow packaging was crude, but also careful. She peered at the tag and saw her own name. Confusion filled her; it did not make sense for her to have mail. The only people she knew anymore were people at the Compound. No one in the world would know her - nor would she want them to until she could make up for what she did for Hydra and Ultron. 

She set down her book (the English translation of _Les Miserables_ ) and picked up the envelope. The address was from _Sokovia_. With no attached name. 

Curious and a little concerned, she peeled open the yellow envelope. Inside was a necklace, a bright silver thing with some sort of round cage pendant on the end of it. She observed it with narrowed eyes, unsure of why this was inside or why she had received it. The remaining contents contained some sort of newspaper clipping and a handwritten letter. She picked up the letter first, hoping to find some sort of clue as to what all this was. It was written in Sokovian and her mind easily fell back into her native tongue. 

_Dear Wanda,_

_We were able to get your address from the Shield agents helping to rebuild our city. I know you were not expecting this, but I felt obligated to send it anyway. I know that you did not often like me because of how often your brother flirted with me, but I hope you know that the people know that you are a hero now. Your brother is a hero too. I did not forget the sacrifice he made for us and I had some things I wanted you to have. He gave me this necklace once when he was handing out food one night. He made some silly comment, but I knew he was being sweet. It was beautiful, but I think you should have it. I also included a newspaper article they wrote about him. Costel has asked about you - I made sure he knew you were an Avenger now. And he will never forget what your brother did for him - neither of us will. I hope you are well now and I hope you find peace._

_Zrinka_

Wanda's lip quivered as she sat the letter down and picked up the newspaper scrap. The picture was grainy and out of focus, but she knew her brother's face anywhere. She couldn't read the excerpt. Her hands were shaking and where her mood had once been content, it had too quickly sank. Her chest began to feel like it was tightening painfully, her lungs constricting as her heart raced in her chest. As her eyes filled with tears, she felt the urge to run. She needed out of this room, away from the mail and the necklace. _Pietro touched that necklace._

As calmly as she could, she made her way backwards down the hallway, back towards her room. The tension was building in her, stealing her breath, her limbs shaking with the effort of moving. Nearly as soon as she made it into her room, her one safe place, she dropped to her knees. Scarlet surged at her finger tip, begging for release as she strained against the ache in her chest, the terrible feeling that she thought she had overcome returning once more to her. She felt it building and building and try as she might to take a deep breath, to calm her racing heart, she squeezed her face in her hands and let out a sob. Her power surged from her, tearing apart her room. Notebooks flew off the desk, the stool was sent across the room, the bookshelf with its knickknacks fell to the ground.

But . . . it was nearly like relief. 

There was just an emptiness now, a desolation so strong that left her gasping for air. She thought she had left this grief, left this unending misery behind. Now, guilt and shame filled her for her outburst and she wanted nothing more than to hide away from herself. Her grief had been so terrible, so consuming of her life, she had once not known how she could go on. How could she live, knowing she would always be alone now? Pietro was gone - she should be too. But as time had passed and life went on, she had learned that this was not the case. 

_I am not_ _alone_ , she thought to herself. She shakily got to her feet and ignoring the mess of her room, curled up under the covers of her bed. Tears were openly streaming down her cheeks, but she made no effort to wipe them away. _Not anymore_. 

Taking a few shuddering breaths between gasps of air, she stretched out her mind to its limits. She had never tried to reach him from so far and she wasn't even sure he would hear her. But she did find him and his peaceful mind, somewhere near the river. She wasn't able to transform anything into coherent thoughts from this distance or in her state of mind, but she was able to send a distress pulse to him. Retreating back to her mind, she stared at the foot of her bed, the blank television beyond that, which somehow managed to withstand her outburst. Her mind flew to another night of grief, a quieter one and she couldn't help but think that perhaps that's where this need for his presence started. 

_She stared absently at the tv,_ Malcolm in the Middle _on. Outside her room, she could not help but hear his thoughts. He was curious and concerned and somehow, loud about it in his orderly way. It was as if he was pacing with his mind, trying to decide if he should come in or not. She decided to make the decision for him and without looking away from the tv, called, "Vision?"_

_Not even a second passed when he was phasing through the wall, his form gleaming for a moment. She turned briefly to look at him. He was tall and hesitant and comfy, in his sweater and slacks and sneakers. His hands were clenched awkwardly at his side and his face was one of passiveness. "I apologize. I don't mean to intrude."_

_She heard his thoughts. He had very well been ready to intrude. "You don't?" She couldn't help the soft challenge in her voice. The emptiness in her chest was leaving her bitter and standoffish, even to the most innocent member of the new team._

_There was a moment of confusion on his face and he raised his hand to explain, his piercing blue eyes holding a bit of bashfulness. "Well, I suppose yes, I did intent to come in here." His sentence was punctuated by a tiny smile, revealing bright white teeth against deep carmine skin._

_She had to force herself not to smile as a response to his stumbling. "And now?"_

_What did he want? Perhaps a sense of genuine curiosity had arose in her now. What concern did the Vision have for her? She knew her grief wasn't well hidden. She stayed in her bedroom for days at a time, only exiting to find food. She stayed in and watched her sitcoms and her movies and it was her only temporary solace, an escape from the horror that was a life without Pietro. But he seemed so earnest and innocent, she could not help but feel inclined to trust whatever his intentions were._

_"And. . ." He glanced sideways for a moment, trying to decide what it was he wanted to say. "Well, whatever is your preference."_

_He beamed again, this time a little brighter, and her response was immediate, though without much thought. She patted the bed next to her, inviting him to come sit. She would not mind if he watched with her. She wasn't sure how exposed he was to things such as tv - could he look those up in his head? - but perhaps it would be okay if he stayed for a little bit. Everyone else seemed too cautious, too wary. Vision just seemed . . . pleasant. And unaware in a sense._

_He gave her an acknowledging nod and crossed the room to sit beside her. He pulled up his slacks a little and she ignored the little wiggle he did to put himself at ease beside her. Toying with her long sleeves, she glanced at him briefly as he looked at her, a small smile on his face. She turned to look back the tv, feeling his eyes a second longer before he followed suite and watched alongside her. Hal stepped back to admire his handiwork on the screen, before the roof caved in and effectively crushed him beneath it. She had seen this episode before - the intended gag did not have the desired effect on her._

_But Vision tilted his head and asked, "It is funny because of the grievous injury the man just suffered?"_

_It sounded as if he was trying to understand, trying to know why it happened, even if she did not laugh. She had not considered that things such as comedic relief or jokes might go right over his head. He was intelligent - but she forgot that as easily knowledge and learning and philosophy came to him, he was still a new soul. He would not understand the nuances or subtleties of human nature. "No, he's not really injured."_

_"Ah," He said in a way that conveyed understanding, but she knew better. It seemed only natural that his follow-up was, "How can you be certain?"_

_She couldn't help the blandness of her voice or the true lack of explanation that came with her response, "It's not that kind of show."_

_There was a few small seconds of quiet, but she hardly noticed. She couldn't help but wish it was Pietro at her side instead. He would laugh. He would understand. He would help her in this new and unfamiliar world. She picked harder at her sleeves, feeling that welling of despair rising once more in her throat. He would never sit at her side again. She would never hear his voice or his laugh. But then Vision's thoughts became loud again on accident, because she realized she had instinctively reached for Pietro mentally and found Vision instead. His thoughts had turned and she sensed the drop of small talk before he even said a word._

_"Wanda," He started off very carefully, pulling in a vocal breath. "I don't presume to know what you're feeling. But I would like to know."_

_He paused and she could feel him looking at her. She was listening, but it felt like he was so faraway or she was underwater and she could only just make out his voice. "Should you wish to tell me. Should that be of some comfort to you."_

_Comfort . . . the word snapped her back to him and Wanda stared at him. Comfort . . . what would he know of comfort? No one there knew. She had not known comfort in years, not even with her brother along side her still. She had not known comfort since that night when the ceiling fell in and her parents died. She would never know comfort again. "What makes you think that talking about it would bring me comfort?" It was easier to sit and watch and sob in her bed than to talk about it. What good would that do? Talking would never bring him back._

_"Oh, see, I read that the -"_

_She hadn't intended for him to answer or for it to be so detached as 'Oh I read somewhere'. She felt bitterness seizing her and she snapped, "The only thing that would bring me comfort is seeing him again."_

_He fell silent and raised his head in a slow nod, looking away from her. Wanda could sense the disappointment and hurt flashing from him, though he didn't seem to understand it. She felt immediate regret at her brusque manner. He wasn't like the others. He had cared enough to read, he had cared enough to come here and try, even if she was hopeless. He had cared enough to sit and watch her dumb shows silently, even if his attempt at helping had ended with her snapping at him. She didn't mean it. She didn't want to mean it._

_Wanda dropped her gaze to her lap, shame filling her. She hated the quaver in her voice when she whispered, "Sorry."_

_She felt his eyes slowly returning to look at her, watchful and listening. She struggled to find words, but as she felt his undivided attention, it became a little easier. "I'm. . . I'm so tired." She bit her lip to keep from sobbing right then and there at her admission. She inhaled sharply, then let it go as she controlled her torment. "It's just like this wave washing over me, again and again," She rubbed at her lips, her fingertips shaky. She couldn't look at him, instead staring at the ceiling as she put words to what was inside her. "It knocks me down and when I try to stand up, it just comes for me again. And I can't -" She paused. Hearing herself out loud, in her raspy unused voice and wavering lip, she realized just how bleak she felt. Perhaps it would be better if she wasted away, pulled down by the waves and let them consume her. "It's just gonna drown me."_

_"No," Vision stated simply._

_"Yeah," her initial response was, but Vision was not finished._

_"No it won't."_

_She had never heard him sound so certain before, at least not when it came to things like reassurance or emotions. She couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her, unable to believe his simple consoling words. In a similar fashion to his earlier question about the show, she finally looked at him and asked, "How do you know?"_

_He gave this a moment's thought, looking between nothing and her as he formulated his words. "Well, because . . .it can't all be sorrow, can it?"_

_His face was one of pure wondering, almost as if he was asking her. But he continued when she did not speak. She didn't know what to make of his question, without her first though that of course it was all sorrow. He pressed his lips together, tilting his head as he pondered aloud. She found she could not take her eyes off him. "I've always been alone, so I don't feel the lack. It's all I've ever known. I've never experienced loss because I've never had a loved one to lose."_

_Where anyone might have said this in a plea for attention, an attempt to compare their lack of grief to her endless grief, Vision stated it merely as a fact. His voice was soft and kind and reflective. Her bitterness faded with his melodic contemplation and attempt to convey that he could not know what she was going through._

_"But what is grief, if not love persevering?"_

_He gave a little nod, satisfied with his words and turned back to watch the television - as if he had not just said something profoundly beautiful. Wanda had trouble returning her attention to the show. His view of grief, of love, was unfettered by any experiences or worldly stipulations. It was pure and heartfelt and she felt a crumbling within her, a desire for hope instead of misery. She hadn't expected this - she hadn't expected him._

_And she certainly did not expect his sudden wheezing laugh as he pointed at the tv._

_This time, her following laugh was not out of shaky weariness, but a reaction to his mirth. She looked at his face, watching his smile, and he seemed to remember that the atmosphere hadn't necessarily been lighthearted. "Sorry, pardon," His smile shrunk a bit as he tried to control his response._

_She laughed again, smiling. "No, it was funny."_

_He turned to look at her, his face growing serious in an amusing way. "Yes, it was very funny, wasn't it?" He was trying to make sure he had laughed at a proper time, recalling his question only a few minutes ago. She was shocked by the growing warmth in her, the need to see him laugh again replacing the haziness of her mind._

_"Mm," she replied, her small laughter following again. There was silence after that, but it seemed that they could not look away from each other. Vision glanced away for a moment, only to look back at her and smile shyly. She returned it, feeling as though her shoulders were a little lighter, her head a little clearer, her heart a little less dark. For a fleeting moment she thought maybe. . ._

_maybe everything would be okay. At least for a little while._

And it had been. For a little while. She knew better now though and Vision had been right then. Grief, however hard it was, came out of love. Grief hurt so badly because there had been love. It made it easier to grieve without feeling guilty for how strong or how long-lasting the pain was. It had become easier. 

But right now, her eyes itched with the tears to come and her body was shaking and she couldn't get her brother's grainy sepia-toned face out of her mind. But before she had much time to ruminate any further on her state of mind or her sudden rush of grief, there was suddenly a very worried looking synthezoid phasing into her room from the window-side. He was in his full get-up, tight green suit, his cape fluttering with a mind of its own behind him. His eyes fluttered around her room and its state of disarray and she could practically feel the panic pulsing from his mind until he realized she was curled up beneath her covers. 

Wanda stayed with her covers pulled up to her eyes, her legs pulled up into herself. He cast his eyes around the room, before falling back on her. He hesitated, as if he were unsure of what to say. She spoke first instead, surprising herself with the soft steadiness of her voice, despite the trembling in her chest. "I wasn't sure you would hear me."

He blinked thoughtfully, his hands clenched awkwardly at his side. He seemed tense, like he there was something he wanted to do or say, but wasn't sure what it was. "I didn't necessarily hear you, but I felt you. I thought you might've been in danger."

She supposed he wouldn't relax until she explained herself more properly. He was too worried, wanting to find the best way to help, but unsure how. "I got mail," she started off. 

He offered a small, tentative smile. "Forgive me, but I don't quite understand."

She smiled under her blanket, but it faded as she continued. "It was from Sokovia, a girl there that we knew. She's the sister of the boy that Pietro, um, you know. She got the address and wrote to me. She, um, she sent a necklace that Pietro gave her once when we were younger. And a newspaper clipping about him. I don't know why, it just - it really hit me again. Then this happened."

Vision looked around her room once more, eyeing her toppled bookshelf and scattered things. "Would you like me to clean it?"

She pulled herself out a little more, patting the bed beside her. "Please, could you just. . .?"

His reaction was instantaneous and with a moment of concentration, his suit phased into a dark blue thermal and cozy sweatpants. He came closer and sat down in the bed beside her, leaning back against her pillows and headboard. After a moment of getting comfortable next to her, he set down his hand just outside her covers. She pulled the blankets down just enough to reach out and lace her fingers with his. His skin was soft and cool under her own, but she felt him begin to warm his temperature. She scooted closer, turning on her side as her heart rate began to slow already. She did not hesitate to reach out her mind again and she was welcomed immediately by his mind. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to be guided into his mind with a gentleness unique to only him. Even if his peaceful thoughts were simply abstract, projected feelings, their effect was exactly what she needed. Her shaking eased, her heart stopped racing, and her thoughts of despair were being replaced with brightness. 

"I'm so sorry, Vizh. I don't want to ruin our day."

His eyes were kind, flicking across her half-hidden face. "There is no need to apologize, Wanda. I have no qualms with changing our plans."

"I will be okay. You are a nice distraction," she reassured him. She pulled herself up and out of the covers, resting more firmly against his shoulder. He absently reached out and pushed back some of her hair from her face. The gesture was small, but nearly overwhelming to her in its consideration. She smiled and closed her eyes again as his hand lingered, brushing through her hair. 

"May I attempt something, Wanda?"

She opened her eyes, peering at him through red eyes with curiosity. "What's that?"

"May I try to braid your hair?"

Wanda hadn't been expecting that request, but it wasn't an unwelcome idea. He clearly did not think much of the question, though it was not one that a man usually asked of a woman. She would guess that he might be curious about hair - he often was curious about things that humans had that he did not such as eyebrows and growing fingernails. She liked helping him learn - and he never made her feel uncomfortable. She pushed the covers away and sat up, handing him a hair tie she had around her wrist. "Sure. Here, sit behind me."

He sat up a little more and perhaps with a little bit of quiet embarrassment, nudged his knees apart. She sat down with her back to him - he was tall enough that he could reach down and braid without needing to adjust her head too much. She swept a hand under her hair and felt him lean forward slightly, his chest brushing her back. With a great amount of care, he started off his attempt by parting her hair. His long fingers carded through, softly touching her head as he began to weave her locks together. She closed her eyes, unable to help the sudden contentment that it brought her. The gentle sifting and occasional tug (followed by a sincere "my apologies") was enough to put her in a daze, feeling comforted and safe beyond anything she had ever known. His mind was still loosely entwined with hers, allowing her to feel his peaceful concentration as well. The warmth filled her, filling her cheeks and her chest and her stomach. She could imagine herself leaning back, into his touch, curling in his arms . . . 

She wasn't ready when he took his hands away, feeling an acute sense of cold when he leaned away from her. "There."

She felt the back of her head carefully and from what she could tell, he had done very well. "Thank you, Vizh."

She turned around, still sitting between his legs, and faced him. He was watching her so intently that she could feel a blush rising in her cheeks. A question was on his tongue - she felt the inquiry on the fringes of his mind. "Wanda, if I were a man, what color hair do you think I might have?"

With a slight tilt of her head, she impulsively reached out and touched her fingers to his head, tracing the vibranium plates that lined his smooth skin. Her finger tip briefly touched the Mind Stone in his forehead, before she became a little self-conscious and retracted both her hand and her mind. His eyes had not left hers, waiting patiently for an answer from her. They were so blue and despite the mechanical-look of them, his soul was clear to her. 

"You don't need hair to be a man, Vision," she told him firmly. She paused a moment, trying to make sure he knew she was serious. There was a bit of relief and clarity that crossed his face, but she knew he still wanted to know what she thought. 

"Maybe blond," she concluded. "Blond goes well with blue eyes."

Vision appeared to think for a moment, his lips pressing together before he said, "Mr. Stark has said that blondes are more fun."

Wanda sighed heavily, unable to help the small laugh that escaped her from looking at his earnest face. Gently, she reached out and cupped his face in her hands. "It might be best if you don't consider things that Stark says too seriously."

He smiled, his cheeks creasing under her hands and together they laughed. She felt the despair in her melting away quicker than it ever did and her earlier fears that she would ruin their night with her grieving dissipated. Releasing his face, she climbed out of the bed and began to clean up her things. Vision followed her, lifting her shelf easily and replacing the fallen books. Together they straightened her room and once it was settled, she left him on her bed while she went to collect the movies they needed from the living room. As she was returning, she passed the letter and necklace and clipping where she'd left them. She paused, looking at her brother's face. 

_What is grief, if not love persevering?_

Tucking the movies under her arm, she gathered the contents and carried them back to her room. Vision was sitting patiently on her bed, a beaming smile crossing his face when she entered. Her heart picked up once more, but this time, she was full of fondness and security. She tried to imagine what Pietro would think of him, if he were here. He'd probably tease him, probably confuse him with jokes and sarcasm, but she liked to think he would appreciate him and his sincerity. Though, she thought with a bit of amusement as she put the movie in and crawled under the covers, he might not have appreciated the fact that Vision shared her bed more often than not. She curled up against his side and after a moment, his fingers traced the length of her braid, before resting on her shoulder.

Wanda couldn't help but smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized as I was writing this first part for this weekend of theirs and it actually accidentally felt a lot like the first chapter. I apologize for that - but I guess sometimes things like this can feel repetitive. The next parts will be less familiar and include some of your own ideas!
> 
> I actually don't like this chapter, it felt flat to me, but it also wanted to be written, so I guess if you guys like it, it's okay. But the weekend will be continued from here and hopefully, the writing will feel a little better. I think I've blocked myself unintentionally because its midterms week and I'm trying not to remind myself how I miss my show and my characters. I think I really just wanted to write out that memory. 
> 
> Still very appreciative of all of you and your life-giving comments! You're all too sweet


	10. Days in the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda wants to spend the day in the neighboring town, but Vision is hesitant after his first experience out in public. Wanda compromises and it turns out to be better than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the title is a direct reference to Days in The Sun from Beauty and the Beast. I thought it worked well as a nice little title and sometimes, I'm just bad at good titles. 
> 
> Warning : Vision makes a very bad pun, no gum needed. The situation called for it and it had to be done. 
> 
> I also feel there's not a lot of dialogue (at least not dialogue that was written out)? Maybe that's just me running on low, but hopefully it still works okay the way it is, regardless of maybe less dialogue.

Vision admired his carefully crafted breakfast, buttered toast and a small batch of scrambled eggs, and a hot cup of green tea with honey. He couldn't eat or drink - it simply wasn't part of his functions, but being able to learn to cook anyway was pleasing to him. Though, he had to admit, the simplicity of breakfast food helped ensure that this endeavor was far more successful than anything else he'd ever tried to make before.

The soft noise of bare feet on the linoleum alerted him to her wakefulness. Last night they had watched three movies and since Wanda had not yet fallen asleep, she had turned on a show called _Friends_. She had fallen asleep nearly ten minutes in and as gently as he could, he phased out of the bed, lowering her cheek to the pillows and tucking her in. Her mind was calm and peaceful, so he wasn't needed. He turned off the television and had spent the rest of the night hovering in his own room, until the anticipation of the day overtook him and he had floated to the kitchen to begin to attempt making breakfast. 

Wanda's hair had been pulled out of its braid, framing her face with dark waves and though she seemed a little sleepy, she had changed into jeans and a nice shirt. She yawned upon entering, wrapping her arms around her middle, and sitting at the island with big, bright eyes. He set out her neat plate and her drink and her gaze only grew brighter. "Vizh, you didn't have to make me breakfast," she cooed, her voice light with appreciation. 

"I wanted to," he distinguished. He made himself busy with washing the dishes while she ate. He washed and dried the pan, took care of the eggs, and when he turned back to her, drying his hands, she was enjoying her tea and watching him. 

"That was good, Vizh, thank you."

He returned her gaze steadily, setting aside the dishtowel. "Did you have a plan in mind for our day?" 

She raised her eyebrows and for a fleeting moment, Vision felt as though he had said something terribly wrong. "That is, if you would like to spend - spend the day with me, if you -"

She reached across the counter top and squeezed his hand with reassurance. "Of course I do. There is no one else I'd want to spend it with."

"There's no one else here," he pointed out, glancing down at their conjoined hands for a moment before searching her face once more. 

Her small smile was one of exasperation and amusement. "Even if there was." She squeezed his hand one more time, before she stood to carry her paper plate to the garbage can. "I was thinking maybe we could go out."

He frowned, considering the implication of her simple words. _Out -_ she was inferring the idea of leaving the Compound. He couldn't think of a good reason to leave. They had groceries, which was usually the reason one would leave the Compound. A second reason might be for clothes or other necessities - and he didn't think Wanda was much of one to want to go out shopping for clothes (normally she ordered online). "Why?" he asked, deciding that sometimes logic wasn't always a reason why people did things. 

She seemed confused by his question. "I don't know. Maybe just to walk around, visit some stores? Maybe get some ice cream?"

Vision usually was very eager to participate in ideas made by Wanda. He still wanted to spend time with her, but the thought of going out after his first experience doing so worried him. Though Captain Rogers had not explicitly stated they weren't allowed to leave, remaining low-profile was something they should be concerned about. And Vision, despite the pursuit of his own humanity, did not look normal. He was not human. And people were not always quick to be so accepting of someone so different from them. But the plaintive look on her face, the slight tilt of her head, green eyes imploring, he found that one of his greater instincts was that he could not deny her. 

"Alright," he carefully replied. 

She smiled widely and if it were possible, he would say his breath was stolen away by the brightness of it. "Let me go get some things. Neither of us can drive, so are you willing to fly us?"

He nodded and she bounced away back to her room. He watched her go and though he wanted to share in her excitement, he couldn't help the wriggling doubt in his chest. He only had one experience in public and though it had started out enjoyable, it had remained in his memory with a negative association. He stared at nothing, replaying the memory while he waited.

 _They decided to watch_ Anastasia, _a gorgeously animated princess movie. Vision was quite enjoying it, but he enjoyed the company he had more. Wanda was at her familiar spot by his side, watching the movie and softly plucking at the fabric of his sweater by his ribs, though he wasn't sure she was aware she was doing it. They'd been watching movies most of the day - Wanda had a bad night of nightmares and taking her mind off of it with movies had been Vision's idea. It seemed to be working, though she did seem rather tired. It was nearly halfway through the film when the click of shoes behind them warned them of someone approaching. Their heads both turned, seeing Agent Romanoff standing there. She had keys in her hand, her body in motion as she paused only for a moment to look at them. "Come on, we're going to the store. Sam is making chili and we are not having chili without cornbread and crackers. Don't let him tell you otherwise."_

 _Vision watched as Wanda did as she was told - very few with common sense ever denied Romanoff - standing up and giving him a quick apologetic look._ We will finish this later, Vizh _, she promised him mentally. He watched quietly as she turned away to the other woman and he felt a pang of loneliness within him. He knew his appearance was off-putting to others - it made sense that he had not yet gone into town or around many other people other than those at the Compound._

_But then he felt the agent's eyes on him. "Vision, come on, you too."_

_Her voice did not leave room for argument. However, he was reminded of Mr. Stark's warning once that until they had good press over what he was, he shouldn't be flying around and going out and frightening people. He opened his mouth to provide the insight, when she added firmly, "No arguing, let's go. The world is gonna have to meet you sooner or later, why not at a grocery store?"_

_He stood obediently, finding it easier to trust her judgement, rather than try and reason. Besides, he liked the thought of being able to go out with them. He didn't really want to sit alone. He got to his feet, returning to Wanda's side. She smiled at him, seeming pleased that Agent Romanoff had invited him. He followed them out to the garage, where Captain Roger's tiny yellow car. Vision paused - wouldn't flying be swifter? He also wasn't so sure he would comfortably fit in the small car. Both women got in, but Wanda looked back at him. His pause caught Agent Romanoff's attention as well. She leaned back over her seat._

_"Vizh?" Wanda questioned him._

_He tilted his head. "Sorry, I've never actually rode in a car before. Flying is much quicker."_

_Romanoff adjusted her mirrors as he opened the door. "Well, our best bet for fitting in while we are out is to do normal people things. And I hate to break it to you, normal people things involve not flying."_

_That was a very astute remark, he decided. If he wanted to fit in among people, he would have to start traveling in the way they did. He shuffled into the car, pulling his shoulders in to fit a little easier. He looked towards the front of the car, uncertain how to feel about the mode of travel he was about to discover. Wanda seemed mostly comfortable, besides the occasional shift in her seat. "Buckle up, kids."_

_He found the seatbelt as she pulled out of the garage and towards the small, nearby town. He knew that the safety measure was for the possibility of a crash or a quick stop, but he wasn't entirely sure it was necessary for him. It would be very difficult for him to be injured in a crash. But again, this trip was more about learning to put others at ease in his presence. There was no harm to buckling. There was little conversation as they traveled and Vision longed to ask a dozen questions about grocery stores, about cars, about the road they were on, but for some odd reason, he didn't. They arrived in at the store within a few short minutes (Agent Romanoff may have gone a little over the speed limit a few times) and Vision cautiously exited the car. There weren't many people in the parking lot, but those who were, immediately did double takes._

_Vision sensed a quickening in his chest, an involuntary warmth in his face. He was_ nervous _. He followed the two women inside and his worry over the other people was forgotten. The building was full of colors and sights and sounds. A variety of signs pointed towards certain aisles, while bright pictures and big wording tried to encourage consumers towards certain items. It was all so fascinating, that he had to remind himself to walk after the two instead of hovering. He hardly noticed the various people around them or their cautious stares._

_"There's actually a few other things we need. You two mind finding them? Wanda, I think we're nearly out of tea. And get some milk and maybe some kind of dessert."_

_With that, the assassin disappeared. Vision looked to Wanda, who seemed a little surprised to be left to their own devices. "The tea is an aisle down," Vision offered helpfully._

_She looked up at him, before she reached out and tugged his sleeve. "Come on then."_

_They quickly found the green tea boxes, which Wanda took up willingly. She looked to the roof for the freezer signs, but he was taller than her. "This way," he told her. She followed him to the freezers and they found the milk quickly. He wanted to take both gallons, but Wanda took one and handed him the other. "Grocery stores are very strange," he noted to her as she guided him just down the aisle to the frozen desserts. "I did not think there would be so much propaganda for food."_

_She laughed and he smiled, unable to help it. "Everything is always about money, Vizh. Even food."_

_She stopped suddenly in front of the popsicles, her eyes lighting up. He stood at her shoulder, trying to figure out what caught her eye. She turned over her shoulder to look at him and he realized he might've been a tad too close, because her nose almost brushed his chin. "I think we should get those."_

_He smiled and looked to where she was pointing. They were red, white and blue popsicles called_ Bomb Pops _, seemingly themed around the American flag. To his own delight, he understood immediately what she was laughing about. "For Captain Rogers? Wouldn't he think we are teasing his alias?"_

_Reaching past her, his chest brushing her shoulder, he opened the door and withdrew the brightly colored popsicles. He observed them for a moment, wondering what it would be like to taste something. It seemed the more brightly colored the food, the more likely it was to be artificially flavored or sweet in some way. Though he didn't quite understand the appeal of popsicles, seeing as they were merely flavored, frozen water. She laughed again, leaning close to him. He felt a flutter in his chest follow as a result, noticing that she had little flecks of brown in her green eyes. "Yes, but it's okay. Sometimes it's fun to tease a little."_

_He paused to consider that, but then,_

_"'Bout done?"_

_They both turned at the same time to see Natasha standing there, a peculiar look on her face. Vision figured she had been waiting and so, he presented the popsicles. "We have acquired all the items you asked for, Miss Romanoff. Wanda thought Captain Rogers might enjoy these particular frozen treats."_

_The agent's smile was sincere and full of amusement. "Yeah, he'll love them. Come on, Sam won't stop texting me to hurry up."_

_Their walk to checkout was brisk and as Vision's senses began to hone in on setting the items they picked out on the conveyor and relieving Wanda of her items as well. He was so engrossed by the process, that he nearly missed the comment of an older woman in line behind them. "Everyone thinks they can just go anywhere looking like whatever the hell they want. Walking around like a damn circus clown."_

_Vision had finished placing the items on the conveyor and though his initial reaction was to turn around and explain that he was a synthezoid and his appearance was a result of the great amount of power he was created with, but his more human reaction won over and a strange tightness entered his chest at her words. But before he could delve too deeply into the awful feeling giving rise in him, he felt the comforting stretches of a familiar mind melding with his own and a small, warm hand slipped into his. He snapped his eyes to her._

Don't listen to her, _she told him._ Some people cannot see beyond their eyes. 

_Even through telepathy, her voice was sweet and certain. He searched her face and saw only fond conviction. He felt a strong sense of ease return to him, aided by the reverence coming from Wanda's own mind._ I am glad that you do, _he replied, which resulted in another gentle nudge of her subconscious._ _He couldn't help a small smile as he offered to take up the bags and together, all three of them left behind the store and the strange looks._

"Vizh? Are you okay?"

He realized he'd been standing there in the kitchen for some time and he turned to see Wanda, looking a little more awake, with a small satchel hanging across her chest and now wearing a light hooded jacket. He stared for a moment, a moment too long as he struggled to return from his thoughts, as Wanda looked down at her wears. "I thought it might get a little cold if we fly," she explained, wrongly assuming he was confused by her change in attire. 

He let it go with a nod, unwilling to admit that he was worried about going at all. She was too excited - he could tell by the way she still had the hint of a smile on her face and the shine in her eyes. Though he wasn't bothered by life in the Compound, perhaps there was a restlessness to the daily life, to staying in one place. Wanda was the only one who never went anywhere - hence, why she was the only one left with him. However, Vision was starting to realize he _wanted_ to go, wanted to be where she was, but his insecurity over what may happen was polluting his ability to be content with his agreement. 

He phased out of his casual clothes and back into his normal hero-ing attire. "Shall we, then?"

They made their way out towards the front of the Compound. _We have to fly_ , Vision reminded himself. Neither of them had drivers' licenses - him being a synthezoid and Wanda not being a legal American citizen. After a moment of thoughtful (and perhaps a little awkward) silence, Wanda zipped up her jacket. "Okay, I'm going to hang onto you now," she warned him, before she reached up and clung to his neck. She was shorter than him, her head coming just below his chin and he could tell she was tense. He supposed that she wasn't fully comfortable yet flying - their little lessons on the roof had not fully paid off yet. Wanting to ease her unease, he looked down at her and partially held out one arm while wrapping the other safely around her middle. 

"You may be more secure if I hold your legs as well."

She looked away from him subconsciously, but nodded. He began to lighten his density, pulling her with him and as a result, hooking his remaining arm under her knees. She was nearly fully cradled against him now as he flew up into the air and towards the town. He scanned the area quickly - within that moment, he noted the roads and the various options for landing that would attract the least attention. He located a small park, near a little pond, and decided that would be the best place to go for the sake of being inconspicuous. With great care, he leaned forward to push them towards that location. Wanda's fingers pressed ever so slightly into his neck, her cheek against his chest. He adjusted his hand a little more tightly around her back, wanting to ensure that she felt safe and sound - though it was programmed into him to want to protect humanity - somehow wanting to assure her and her protection was much different. 

They reached the park within a few moments and he made sure to slow his descent. There were no people around as he landed on the path and gingerly set Wanda down. She took a moment to regain her balance, before meeting his eyes. "Thanks Vizh," she smiled. She glanced around, her eyes following the lines of the concrete path and the open banks of the lily pond. A few mallard ducks swam in the water, the crab apples overhead flowered with pastel-pink flowers, and somewhere in the distance, a dog barked in harmony with the joyful shrieks of children. It was peaceful and full of life and Vision found himself ensnared by the simple beauty of it. 

His eyes were drawn to her, however, as she reached out and grasped his hand. She encouraged him after her and he let her guide him, his suit returning to a comfortable pair of slacks and a simple black jacket. He expected her to release his hand once he began to follow her, but she did not. He accepted this with a curling of his own fingers around hers and together, they made their way down the pleasant path. It was beautiful and peaceful and they only passed a man atop a bike, who barely glanced their way, and an older woman on a bench who gave them a friendly wave. Vision was just beginning to feel a little more comfortable about being in public, until they began to reach the end of the path. The buildings and people were ahead - it seemed some sort of market was taking place. He felt an involuntary slow in his step and tightness in his throat. 

Wanda sensed it and stopped, turning to face him without dropping his hand. "Vision. It's alright to be nervous."

He glanced between her and the people on the street ahead. "I - I think it may be better if I remain here."

He _did_ wish to go with her. He wished for nothing more. But logic and reason told him that she would be unnoticed if she went alone. He was too different - he stood out too much. Mr. Stark had warned them all against attracting too much attention before their first mission. No one would recognize Wanda - she could still enjoy her day so long as he kept a low profile. 

Her face dropped a bit, her fingers squeezing his. "I don't want to go alone," she replied, clearly crestfallen. "Are you sure?"

"There will be little peace if I come along," he surmised, pulling his hand back gradually. "I want you to enjoy the day."

Wanda tilted her head, her eyes bright with disappointment. But as she looked over his shoulder, a little smile grew on her face. "Well, I won't be enjoying my day much if you're not there. But -" She started to back up towards the street and the people. "If you just go find a bench, I will be back in a minute. Alright?"

He wondered for a moment what she was planning, but she was too far away now and she had turned towards the people. For a frightening moment he lost sight of her and he wondered if they should have come at all. How could he protect her if he couldn't see her? But he felt a nudge against his mind and she was there, using the limits of her reach to ensure that she was okay. He relaxed a bit and retraced their steps back down the path towards the pond. There was an empty bench near a stretch of grass, where several children were playing with a golden dog. He watched the ducks swim around for a decent amount of time, focusing on a mother leading around her ducklings. They were tiny and a fleeting moment of impulse fluttered through his mind, _I would like to hold one_. He furrowed his brow at the thought, but he couldn't consider it for very long before a circular disc landed at his feet. 

The furry golden dog was then at his feet as well, initially focused on retrieving the frisbee. But it lifted its head and wagged its tail and pushed its head under Vision's hand. He scanned it, finding nothing but large amounts of dopamine and oxytocin. Curious, Vision stretched out his fingers and drew them along the firm head of the dog. It closed its eyes, leaning into his touch and he felt a burst of happiness in his own chest. The dog's mouth fell open with delight as Vision scratched him, both finding a great amount of enjoyment in the activity. But the call of the children nearby brought the dog back to reality and with a craning of its neck, licked his nose. He picked up the frisbee and wagged away. 

"Good boy," Vision murmured, feeling as though it made the most sense to say. It did not take much to understand why a person might have a pet. Though, he would like to maybe pet a cat one day and decide which he preferred. 

He felt a greeting tap on his mind and he turned his face to see Wanda making her way towards him, a small, rolled up paper bag in her hands. Her smile was contagious, broad and toothy, nose scrunching up delightfully as she sat down beside him. She bumped his shoulder, leaning on him as she opened up her paper bag. "I hope you weren't too bored," she beamed. "Look."

She handed him the bag and he peered inside. "Peas?"

Wanda nodded, though he wasn't entirely sure what the produce seemed to mean. But then she was just as swiftly pulling him back to his feet and leading him down the path and the little slope to the pond bank. "The lady at the booth said that bread was bad for the ducks," she explained, reaching in and starting to peel apart the fresh pea pods. "Peas are a much better substitute."

She encouraged him to sit down and with a tug of his pants, he sat down cross-legged beside her. The grass tickled his hand as he brushed it along the ground and he marveled at it, wondering why he had never taken the time before to notice it. She sat the bag between them and he helped her husk the rest of the peas into the bag. She took a few in her hand, gesturing towards the ducks. The fowl had started to take interest, the mother duck in particular flapping her tail with interest. "Make sure you toss them close, they will sink fast. Hopefully they will come closer."

She tossed a pea and it landed near the mother duck. She immediately bobbed her head into the water, scooping up the pea and shaking her tail with appreciation. With a glance towards Wanda (who smiled encouragingly) and tossed a pea. It landed not far from one of the baby ducks and with a surprising amount of dexterity, it dove into the water to scoop up the pea, mimicking it's mother. The ducks gradually made their way closer to the bank, until they were standing in the shallow waters of the pond. Vision followed Wanda's lead, tossing peas in turn to each duck. The babies were able to access the peas easier in the shallow water and it was satisfying to see them eat the food they were given. 

"This is quite unusual," Vision noted, his fingers brushing Wanda's as they both reached into the bag for more peas. He couldn't explain the pleasant prickling on his skin when she withdrew her hand. "Wild animals are able to obtain their own food. Why feed them?" 

He didn't truly have a complaint over it; he found that for some reason, it was quite fun. Especially when two ducklings scurried for the same pea and splashed one another and Wanda laughed gently. But he was more curious over the idea more than anything. "They're park ducks, Vizh, they're hardly wild," Wanda giggled. She tossed another few peas for the ducklings to squabble over. "I don't know why it's fun. I guess we just like to think we are helping them survive. Giving them a break from the fighting and the struggle."

Vision pondered that, raising a pea to inspect it and the life-giving nature it now held. He subconsciously curled his lip lopsidedly as he spoke, the creeping smile lilting his words. "That's profoundly beautiful. Even if it is unnecessary."

Wanda furrowed her brow, laughter shaking her shoulders. "It's not that deep, Vizh. You have been reading too much Shakespeare."

He stared for a moment longer at the pea, a strange feeling overcoming him as he connected a part of himself to what he was witnessing. "To pea or not to pea," he smirked, glancing at Wanda for her reaction to one of his first attempts at humor. 

Her eyes widened and her laughter moved on from shaking her shoulders, to her entire body, leaning sideways and resting her chin on his shoulder. Then, she craned her neck and kissed his cheek. He turned his chin to look down at her, unsure what he did to illicit such an affectionate reaction. It wasn't the first time she had done so, but before it had been under somber circumstances, after he learned that her birthday was not as happy an occasion as it was meant to be. But nothing seemed somber about the moment right now - in fact, it was going far better than he had ever expected a day in public to go. 

"You may have to work on your jokes a little, Vizh," Wanda finally managed to advise between stifled laughs. She didn't remove her chin from his shoulder, watching as he tossed the remaining peas in the water. 

The sun was bright in the sky now, warming them as they sat in the grass and watched the ducks gradually make their way back into deeper water. After a little bit of chatter, Wanda convinced him to lean back on the grass with her. She showed him how to spot shapes in the clouds, though he wasn't sure he was able to understand it fully. So, he listened as Wanda found shapes and tried to describe them to him, all while he wished she would kiss his cheek again so that he might better document the feeling it created within him. But soon, Wanda relayed to him that she was hungry. While he suggested that she could return to the town to find food, she shook her head firmly. 

"Let's head back, Vision. Today has been amazing," she told him. "Thank you."

The sincere fondness in her voice left his heart beating wildly in his chest and standing, he reached out and helped her to her feet as well. It seemed she could not stop smiling today. As they walked once more on the path, he made sure no one was near when he scooped Wanda up and lifted her into the sky. She was brightness and giggles and contentment and Vision struggled to keep his visuals on the route to the Compound and not on her. He couldn't help but think that he liked the way she felt in his arms, her face pressed into his neck as she laughed, one hand pressed to his chest. He liked the feeling that every moment spent with her brought out in him. He found that he could not find the words to explain the feeling that she seemed to bring out in him every single day. The feeling did not leave him as he set her down and it did not leave him as she made lunch, nor when she talked to him about her favorite type of sandwich, or when she promised him that one day they would go out without worrying about anything.

When they sat down on the couch later that night, after she put on _Friends_ where she left off and curled herself up into his side, he was starting to find that he would very much like to kiss her cheek too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, these two will get past cheek kissing eventually! But today is not that day and I do not mind because they are still so cute to me. 
> 
> I've got one more chapter for the weekend and then some more in the works after that! Thank you all for sticking around and commenting such lovely things! You really help keep me posting!
> 
> Please continue to let me know how it is and what you might like to see as a reader! This particular fic (but not the only fic in the works!) will only go as far as Civil War, but I am open to all suggestions!


	11. The Thing With Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vision and Wanda progress with her flying as they await the return of their teammates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little shorter to draw an end to Wanda and Vision's nice little weekend, but that's alright. I have two chapters in the works, one that is a direct follow-up to this little chapter that is perhaps as short, but maybe a little more sweet. 
> 
> "Hope is the thing with feathers . . ." Emily Dickinson (if you cannot tell by this point, my English major seems to be kicking in for titles)

Wanda looked out at the expanse of grass before her, her powers swirling within her palms. The trees lined her left side and the Compound on the right. Down the slope, the water shined brightly in the sun. Focusing, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling of tension in her muscles, the building pressure in her hands as the powers surged, the pounding of her heart in her chest. Once she was sure she had the powers melded to her fingers, controlled to one spot, she opened her eyes and surged upwards, hovering in one spot as she had once more. She couldn't help the excited smirk that crossed her face at her success and though she had to adjust for a moment by lifting a leg and pushing her arms outwards for balance.

After a moment longer of hovering two meters or so off the ground with continued force pulsing from her fingers, she took a chance and leaned forward. She had hoped that the new movement would propel her forward. But almost instantly, she was too imbalanced and tipped forward and panic sent a burst of scarlet from her palms that quickened her descent back to the ground. Though her mind was convinced she would hit the dirt face first, she was well prepared when strong arms wrapped around her. Her body lightened as Vision regained her control and lowered them both to the ground. 

Wanda let out a breathy sigh when she touched back down, stumbling out of his arms (though she had to admit, the feeling was quite nice) and across the grass. He watched her as she regained her breath that she had been holding. 

"You lost your balance," Vision pointed out as helpfully (though also pointlessly) as he could. 

"Thanks," she replied sarcastically, though it was fruitless, since sarcasm almost always went right over his head. And she wasn't truly annoyed by him as sarcasm might imply. They had only just started practicing again and that had been her first attempt to actually propel herself forward. She did however feel a flash of frustration already in how slowly these attempts were going - as well as the fact that she couldn't practice on her own without the risk of eating dirt or pavement. It wouldn't help her on missions if she couldn't learn to harness it on her own. 

_Though_ , she thought as she admired the way the sun made Vision's eyes even more piercingly blue than she thought possible. _It's not as if I don't enjoy the company_. 

Truth be told, the weekend with Vision had been wonderful. Though there had been a slight hiccup on Friday with her grief resurfacing, he'd been so patient and kind in helping her through it. And though he had expressed nervousness over going into town with her yesterday, the time they spent in the park was serene and left her with a warm sense of endearment in her chest that had not yet faded. She hoped to one day be able to ease his concerns over his concerns over his own humanity. The night had ended with her falling asleep on the couch beside him - and waking up in her bed the next morning, softly but securely tucked in beneath her blankets. Today had been fairly uneventful - she had eaten cereal while Vision read a new book of his. They had spent a tiny bit of time apart, as Vision conducted a patrol (" _I let it go for a day. I cannot shirk my duties for another day")_ and she had showered and wrote for a while in her journal. By the time lunch had rolled around and she had eaten, Vision had returned and apologized for his extended absence, claiming that he had discovered a new species of duck while he had been flying. His sweet, embarrassed smile when she had laughed had stayed somewhere in the back of her mind now as dinner time loomed close. 

"I'm not sure this is going to work, Vizh," Wanda exhaled, flicking scarlet from her fingers in an act of anxiety. She was perhaps a little worried she would disappoint him if she could not figure it out. "I don't see how I will be able to balance."

He tilted his head a slight bit, his eyes whirring as he thought carefully. She couldn't look away from him in his pondering - his intelligence and dedication to helping her understand her own abilities was captivating to her in the most pure way. "Perhaps we should try another angle," he suggested, eyes shifting from her to the sky. "You are used to hovering now. You are able to cushion your descent as well. Perhaps you could use a combination of both to perform something a bit different from flight."

Wanda furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

Vision paused again, this time trying to find the right words. "Well, I suppose . . . like an assisted leap, of sorts."

She tried to picture what he was saying in her mind, imagining what she would need to do to to meet the idea he had provided. 

"Imagine Mr. Stark's suit and the repulsors in his hands. If he were to activate them with a highly concentrated burst of power, he would soar up. In turning down the power upon descent, he would be able to land without falling," Vision frowned as he spoke, becoming a bit flustered. "Is - I am having trouble explaining -"

"No, I think I understand," Wanda interrupted. She looked out before them, trying to imagine where she might land, but she truthfully had no idea. A burst of energy to send her into the air did frighten her a bit, especially since she wasn't sure that she could control just how much a 'highly concentrated burst' was for her. It wasn't like she had a power percentage displayed for her, like Stark. "But maybe you could stand somewhere over there and I could try to go that far?"

Vision gave her a subtle dip of his head and floated across the grass until he was a distance away from her. Focusing on where he was and how high she would have to go to reach him, she allowed her powers to pulse in her hands again. With a strong shove downwards, she let the powers explode from her and send her skyward. She tried not to think about how light she felt - then she hit a peak and began a descent. She reminded herself to cushion the fall and caught Vision hovering closely in the corner of her eye as she overshot her leap. She ignored him and a few moments before she would touched down, she sent out a strong mist of red. Her fall slowed and she stretched out a foot to drop down. She was a little off kilter when she did so and instead of the graceful landing she had been hoping for, her ankle gave out. 

Her powers dissipated and she fell, too quick and close to the ground for Vision to catch. She dropped to her knees with a surprised yelp, her face hidden by her hair as she leaned forward off her feet. Within a second, there was a hand on her back and another bracing her shoulder. "Wanda, are you alright?"

She couldn't help herself as she began to laugh and rolled to the side, laying on her back in the grass. Vision's face was shadowed as he blocked out the sun but she could see the confused concern in his eyes. Her laughter seized her entirely, making her cheeks hurt with the toothy grin that graced her features and she threw her head back, taking in the feeling of the warm sun and the breeze and the idea that maybe, _maybe,_ this could work.

She had her doubts and her reservations over her role in the Avengers for the longest time - especially since they had not yet undertaken their first mission. She was the youngest (not counting Vision, who was technically only a few months old) and only had experience in hurting others during her time with Hydra (and excluding the fight against Ultron, which was accomplished under tight circumstances and limited knowledge still on her own powers). All of the others were veterans of some sort - Sam was a soldier, Rhodey was a colonel, Natasha was an assassin and special agent, Steve was a war hero captain. She really felt out of her depth with them, in training, in tactical thinking, in courage. But in moments like these, where she _finally_ landed a blow on Natasha, where she _finally_ beat the simulation, where she _finally_ memorized Steve's cues and instructions. And now, where she felt as though she was finally approaching a new and useful skill. 

"My research indicates that laughter can sometimes be a reaction to pain in an attempt to release endorphins and works as a distraction -" He was still hovering over her and though she knows she should be grateful for his worry, the sight of him leaning so far over, while also slightly hovering only served to send her into a fit of mirthful giggles again. 

"I - I'm not -" She struggled to get words out, her sides hurting with her laughter. "I'm - I'm just _happy_ , Vizh."

His brow lifted with acknowledgement and thought. "Oh. You did not hurt yourself?"

"I'm sure you would have told me if I did," she pointed out, referencing his ability to scan and examine human behavior and reactions. "That was very close, don't you think? I went a little farther than I meant to, but I think I have an idea now of how much power I can use."

He was still hovering as he nodded understandingly, casting a shadow over her. She scrunched her nose and reached out and patted the grass beside her. "Lay down."

Vision's confusion returned, but he followed her instruction. He slowly and methodically lowered himself to the ground, laying back alongside her. The clouds and the deepening blue of the summer sky was now visible, the sun somewhere behind their heads. Birds sang in the quiet. It was as beautiful a day as it had been yesterday and Wanda released a steady breath. She could still feel his confusion at laying on the ground, but his wonder and his child-like curiosity was much more pronounced. She turned to look at him and he was watching the clouds (probably trying to find shapes again like she had showed him). He was quite the sight, with stalks of grass framing his red and silver face, cape bunched up underneath him, and blue eyes twisting as he stared. 

"Did you have a good weekend?" she inquired. "I guess we did a lot of things that I wanted to do."

Vision glanced sideways at her. "I very much enjoyed the weekend," he informed her happily. "I do not have a to-do list like Captain Rogers. It is much easier for me to enjoy new experiences through other people."

She smiled, grass tickling her cheek. "Except for your book list."

He returned the smile. "Yes, except for my book list."

After a beat of silence and her fingers absently plucking at the grass and Vision breathing softly beside her, he asked, "Shall we try again?"

She smirked and together they stood. 

She tried a couple more times, managing to find the right amount of energy to send her as far as Vision and making sure to cushion her fall once she descended. Her feet did not give out and her smile did not fade. She felt something like wings in her chest, fluttering and escaping in the form of breathy laughter and releases of proud exhales. Wanda hadn't felt hope like this in a long time - she wasn't even sure she could think of the last time she had excitement for what the future would bring. It was making her giddy and silly after each attempt and it seemed to be puzzling the hell out of Vision, but she could see the merriment growing in him as well despite his lack of understanding why.

They worked their way towards the Compound and eventually, she convinced him that she believed she could launch herself onto the roof. Though he was hesitant, she was confident. "Fly up with me," she encouraged him, fixing him with an imploring grin. "I trust you to catch me."

He agreed with a tiny nod and they positioned themselves at the base of the Compound near a solid wall. She made sure she was a decent space away, before getting a small running start and flinging her hands downward in a burst of power. She soared into the air, flying higher and higher, making sure to persist the burst until she reached a high enough peak forward that she knew she was going to land on the roof. Wanda could feel Vision flying beside her and instead of being distracted, she felt strengthened. When she landed on the rooftop with a near perfect landing, she couldn't help turning towards him and throwing herself into his arms. 

"Holy _shit_ , Vizh," she exclaimed, her breaths coming in short, tittering gasps. "I can't believe I just did that."

His face was so close to hers, smiling and proud, and if the sound of some sort of incoming flier hadn't distracted her, she might've kissed him. The tug in her gut had wanted it more than anything - but she was willing to chalk it up to the feeling of exhilaration pounding in her chest. _Calm down, Wanda_ , she told herself, reluctantly withdrawing from his arms. There was a strange look on his face - she quickly made sure that her mind hadn't accidentally tangled with his (it wasn't). He seemed to be momentarily out of breath himself, even though physical exertion did not affect him in the way it did the rest of them. But she didn't ask - near the concrete helipad, Rhodey was landing in his suit. He was the first to return, but Wanda was sure that the rest of them would not be far behind. 

"Perhaps we should head in for dinner," Wanda suggested. "I'm sure Sam will want to order pizza when he gets here and I want to make sure they don't put pepperoni on mine."

Vision seemed quiet and unmoving for a moment and she briefly wondered if he was alright. But just as soon as she did, he blinked and showed off his teeth in a smile. "Of course. Should we tell the team about your progress?"

She glanced towards the grass down below where they had practiced, her hopeful whimsy not yet gone from her chest. Despite her sudden confidence in herself and her growing abilities, something in her was still reluctant to lose these little training sessions between them. Vision was unencumbered by expectations or an agenda - he wanted to see her learn to use her abilities and it was simple as that. Perhaps it was a little self-serving, but she also was certain that while her ego was boosted, it would not stay that way. All it would take was one misstep in training or confused over Steve's different battle tactics to send her back to her insecure self. Deep down, she was afraid she would mess up this newfound skill sooner or later. 

"How about a few more sessions first? I did get up here, but only once. Next time I might fall on my face," she pointed out. 

"You wouldn't," he said automatically. 

"You would catch me," she finished for him, her voice genuine. 

He nodded and his eyes were full of conviction. A car was coming up the Compound's road, catching both their attention for a moment before they looked back at one another. "Shall we?"

Wanda led the way as he phased out of his suit and into clothes. Once they were inside, she sent Vision ahead to say hi while she finished walking through the Compound. By the time she reached the kitchen, Steve and Sam had arrived. Natasha was already sitting on the counter (Wanda wondered if she had returned much sooner than Rhodey and they hadn't known) and Rhodey was taking everyone's order on a scrap of paper. Vision was leaning against the counter and conversing with Steve. His attention adjusted every so slightly, his eye catching Wanda's. She smiled at him, but moved towards Nat. 

"How was your weekend, Maximoff?" Sam called from one of the stools, raising his beer bottle at her. 

She shrugged. "Uneventful. Much quieter without you."

That earned a few laughs and a scoff from Sam. But as they laughed, none of them seemed to notice the grass stains on her jeans or hear the fluttering in her heart. She caught Vision's eyes once more, a broad but soft smile beaming at her from across the kitchen, and she found that the feathery fluttering in her chest was turning into something else entirely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, that wraps up the weekend! The next fic will indeed be tooth-rotting fluff hopefully. Everyone needs a little good PR before the first mission - and what better than a classic Stark party at Avengers Tower? Probably cliches ahead, but whatever, I'll dive right into them for happiness.
> 
> Also, a second fic is coming along nicely so far! It will be a collection of moments between Civil War and Infinity War and very similar to this. It will mostly be fluff, but the first chapter so far is pretty angsty (but lots of hurt/comfort). It'll be a bit before I post it, but I wanted to let you all know about the plans!
> 
> please let me know how it's going so far! feedback feeds this story tbh and my poor WV broken heart. also you all are wonderful!


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